Chapter 25: Water of the Womb
The Polyjuice Potion had been in effect for going on three hours when Dagmar gave up on the idea of changing back to herself before bed. She was looking forward to it now the experience's novelty had worn off, although changed her mind when the transformation woke her up sometime in the morning's early hours. She sat up in the bed afterward, panting. She looked up when a glass appeared in her peripheral vision.
Draco was back to himself too. "I debated waking you up before it hit."
"Ugh, what an awful feeling." Dagmar sipped the water he offered. "Thanks."
Draco crawled into bed and curled up against Dagmar's back. Dagmar ran her fingers lightly over his forearm when he put it around her middle, but remembered nothing else before there was sunlight outside.
Before going to the Great Hall for breakfast, Dagmar headed down to the dorm room to put some of her own clothes on. Daphne was still there in the bathroom getting ready for the day. Dagmar tiptoed across the room to her bed but Daphne sniffed her out regardless.
"Well, well, well," she said, amusement in her voice. "Look who comes crawling back into the dorm on a Saturday morning."
"Ja, fancy that." Dagmar pulled her curtain shut so she could change.
"I take it your Polyjuice Potion worked out?" Daphne asked. "I didn't think you'd come back to the dorm if you looked like Draco."
"It did. It's so nice to have that project over and done with," Dagmar replied.
"Theo and Blaise are going to start their first attempt at Amortentia on Wednesday." Daphne's voice carried through as she came out of the bathroom. "They found some third-years willing to get paid to take it. That should be fun to watch."
"Can't think of better quality entertainment, myself."
Daphne stood up from the edge of her bed when Dagmar was dressed. The rest of their friend group had beat them to the Great Hall. They were laughing when Dagmar and Daphne joined them.
Theo wiped at his eye. "Draco was just telling us about your potion."
"Oh was he?" Dagmar raised her eyebrows at him.
"Just the differences between being a man and a woman," Draco clarified. "I have a lot fewer jiggly parts this morning."
"No more dangly parts for me, thank goodness." Dagmar reached for some coffee to pour for herself. "I'll feel more pity than disgust if I see a bloke adjusting in public. It can get bad."
They all started laughing again.
"So now be honest." Theo was wiping tears of mirth again from his eyes. "Was that all you got up to last night?"
"Well of course not," Dagmar answered. She looked at Draco again. "I don't mind talking about it if you don't."
Draco shrugged. "Honestly, what we did was probably a lot tamer than whatever Theo's imagination could come up with."
"It was totally scientific," Dagmar told their grinning friends with a wave of her hand. "I thought it would be weirder but when you're still with the same person it's not much different. An adjustment, obviously."
"I didn't really think about it after a while," Draco said. "Even sucked my first willy."
They all erupted with that, Theo the loudest. Milly started choking on the bit of egg she hadn't spit out onto her plate and both Blaise and Luca turned red in the face as they howled. McGonagall's voice sounded somewhere outside the din, and they all fell quiet as she addressed them again.
"That's quite enough," she sharply told them. "There's no need to be that loud."
Milly coughed again before clearing her throat. They all leaned in closer to carry on in whispers as the hall at large returned to their meals. If they got anywhere close to noisy again, McGonagall's gaze shot over at them like a hawk's.
Not having the Polyjuice Potion to be concerned about freed up a lot of Dagmar's mental space. The regular load from classes didn't feel as bad as she and Draco resumed their regular study schedule come Monday evening. The mood in the castle picked up again as the weekend crept closer since Gryffindor and Hufflepuff would face off Saturday.
Dagmar woke up Saturday morning merely happy to have something like a date with Draco as they went with their friends to the match. Ginny was especially hungry for it today. Creevey and Wolpert could barely keep up with her, but they managed. Maybe it was because they came into the match as the underdogs, but Dagmar cheered a bit louder whenever Gryffindor got the quaffle in. Draco even clapped when Potter ended up with the snitch despite the sour air between them.
Gears shifted again Monday with classes. Professor Parasca's arrival in the Defence classroom Tuesday morning hushed them all. Dagmar's foot jiggled through roll call out of eagerness to find out what their next area of study would be.
"By a show of hands," Parasca said after marking off Blaise, "who here knows what a lich is?"
Dagmar put her hand up along with about half the class. It had been one of the questions that initially stumped Dagmar on Parasca's quiz first lesson.
"Good, some of you took the time to look into it." She smiled as she folded her hands behind her back. "Would someone enlighten us—ah, Ms. Granger."
"A lich is an undead magic-user," Hermione stated. "While alive, a witch or wizard constructs something called a phylactery, which contains their soul separate from their body. A lich cannot die or be killed unless the phylactery is destroyed first. If someone does try to kill them, they can live on enough to potentially generate or inhabit a new body."
"Well done, ten points to Gryffindor," Parasca replied. "Now, liches are not common dark magic-users to come across, as the process to become one is lengthy and complicated. Of course, I will not teach that here, for I myself am not completely sure what that is. . ."
It was an interesting lecture anyway, and Dagmar didn't even bemoan the three feet of parchment assigned at the end.
"Well, I reckon I know why Parasca lectured on them," Draco said as they headed for Potions. "Doesn't take much stretch of the imagination that You-Know-Who might've gone that route given he came back after he should've died."
Dagmar nodded. "Can't beat him if you don't understand him, right?"
"I wonder what You-Know-Who's phylactery would be," Draco replied. "What do you reckon?"
"Something he could keep close so he knows it's intact." Dagmar pursed her lips in thought. "If it can be a living thing, most likely Nagini."
"Who's that?"
"His snake." Dagmar paused. "Can I tell you a secret?"
"Yeah, of course."
Dagmar looked around to make sure that nobody was paying them any attention. She leaned over to Draco's ear regardless and lowered her voice. "I'm a Parselmouth."
Draco snapped his head in her direction, brow furrowed. He studied her. "Surely you're taking the piss."
"Nei." Dagmar shrugged.
Draco made a thoughtful noise, his brow still low as he looked on ahead. "When did you find out?"
"Knew when I was a kid," Dagmar replied. "I thought everybody could. Then Mum told me to keep it to myself."
"Hm." Draco thought some more. "Okay, then."
His blasé response made Dagmar nervous. "Does it upset you?"
"No, just. . .didn't expect it."
Dagmar nodded. Honestly, if Draco wasn't reacting as though repulsed, she should be grateful. Dagmar had been at the duelling club back in second year when Potter accidentally revealed himself as one. The uproar it had caused, especially when the Chamber of Secrets opened. . .
"How come you bring that up after mentioning You-Know-Who's snake?" Draco asked. "Did it say something to you?"
"Nei, I just heard it talking to him."
They had no choice but to stop discussing it as Blaise and Theo caught up. When Potions started they had to be quiet anyway while Snape talked but Dagmar felt as though Draco's silence stemmed from what she told him regardless.
Dagmar touched Draco's foot with hers as they got started on the day's assignment. "I still feel like you don't like what I told you."
"I'm just thinking." He shrugged. "Obviously it has a bit of a dark reputation here, but I'm curious how it's different in Norway."
"Well, my mum told me to hide it, so. . ."
"Who in your family speaks it?"
Dagmar slowed in dicing up her crocodile heart. "What do you mean?"
"It's hereditary, or at least I thought it was." Draco was measuring out lavender. "Salazar Slytherin's descendants spoke it."
"I don't know," Dagmar answered. "I haven't seen my dad's family in years. They all live in Oslo. There's no one left on my mum's side."
"No?" Draco looked up from his dropper.
"Mum said my grandparents died before I was born." Dagmar went back to cutting. "My mum had a sister, but I don't know what happened to her. Talking about her always upset my mum."
"Fight, maybe?"
"Must have been after I was born if that was the case, since Mum named me after her. Aslaug, my middle name," Dagmar specified. "I always thought she was dead, though. That's the impression I got."
Draco fell quiet again. Dagmar wished he would stop doing that. For some reason it was making her nervous. She prompted him again after class about it as they headed for lunch.
"It's nothing," Draco said. "Really, I mean it. I'm just realizing we've been together for nearly eight months and I didn't know you have hardly any family beyond your parents. Considering I'm marrying in, it feels like something I should've known."
"It isn't like I kept it from you." Dagmar squeezed his hand. "I just didn't have any family to talk about, really."
"Yeah." Draco let their shoulders bump together as they walked. He smiled at her. "I promise, I'm not mad or anything. I just feel like I know you pretty well so it's strange when there's something as big as that to still learn."
"Okay." Dagmar breathed a little easier.
Snape had taken the time during Potions to point out that Dagmar and Draco completed their final project, using it as means to terrify the rest of the class into action. He also strongly hinted that he knew of one pair already that would not complete by the deadline, which had a more potent effect than anything else on their classmates. While they all looked stressed whenever Dagmar passed one in the castle (Hermione especially), the rest of her week progressed nicely. She and Draco were actually having extra time left over some evenings after completing their homework. The academic year for seventh-years was starting to wind down. All the courses' syllabi set May aside as a review month, and half of April was a write-off anyway with the Easter holidays. Altogether there were only really four weeks of actual lessons left.
Come Friday, Dagmar was making good time on her homework. Several assignments had all been set as due early the next week, and had Professor Vector not assigned something new that afternoon Dagmar would have absolutely nothing to do all weekend. She was having a hard time motivating herself to consider beginning NEWT review early.
A little after three, Dagmar started watching the library from her spot in study hall for a glimpse of Draco. Her gaze softened when she saw him come in with Blaise and Luca. She returned their waves. Dagmar had barely returned to her Arithmancy assignment when she registered someone entering study hall out the corner of her eye. She took a double-glance when she saw it was Snape, and stopped writing altogether as he approached her desk.
"Er, afternoon, Professor," she greeted him.
Snape curtly nodded. "I need you to come with me."
Nerves fluttered in Dagmar's stomach. "What for?"
"We won't speak here." Because some of the closer aide stations had begun to eavesdrop, Snape lowered his already-quiet voice. "Pack up your things."
Dagmar's hands shook as she did. Some nearby students whispered loudly enough for Dagmar to catch that she might be in trouble, and Dagmar shared their suspicion. Had Pansy gone to Snape?
Snape didn't stay in study hall to wait for her. When Dagmar came out into the library, Draco was putting his bag back together as well. Blaise and Luca didn't see anything funny about it like the kids in study hall had. Blaise caught Dagmar's eye, but she had no answers for him.
They headed upstairs in Snape's wake. Nausea tickled the back of Dagmar's throat. If they weren't going down to the dungeons, then something was very off. Dagmar took Draco's hand. It was impossible to tell whose was more clammy. There was a long walk ahead of them, long enough for all sorts of wild theories to graduate Dagmar's tense form into a slightly trembling one. When they came to a couple gargoyle statues, that at least solved one mystery: they were going to see Dumbledore.
Maybe Dagmar's parents defected from Voldemort. A glimmer of hope visited her that they might be up in the office ready to apologize for the last three years.
"Come in," Dumbledore said when Snape knocked on the door at the top of the staircase. To see him alone and solemn filled Dagmar with new dread, her tentative hope extinguished.
"Take a seat," Dumbledore told Dagmar and Draco.
He conjured two chairs in front of his desk. Draco accidentally kicked one of the legs before sitting. He held his trembling hands together in his lap.
"I apologize that I must be the bearer of bad news." Dumbledore folded his hands on his desk. "Dagmar, your father died last night."
Dagmar's chest felt like she'd been kicked by a bicorn. She nodded, otherwise numb.
"I regret that there is more," Dumbledore carried on after slight hesitation. "Your mother has been taken into custody by Aurors, as has your father, Draco. Not for what happened to Erik, mind you."
Draco's breathing shallowed. "What about my mother?"
"She wasn't there when this all happened," Dumbledore answered. "We are currently trying to locate her."
"Does that mean she's missing?"
"We don't know."
The weight of it bent Draco's spine. He leaned over his lap and all Dagmar could do through the veil of surreality buffering her from this was to rub Draco's back. She knew it was devastating, knew nothing would ever be the same again, but she couldn't feel it yet. She didn't want to feel it.
"What happened?" she asked. "Did my dad at least—was it quick?"
"Yes." Dumbledore nodded. "It was the result of a Killing Curse."
"Who killed him?"
"It was an Auror, one that either Hildegard, Lucius, Rodolphus, or Bellatrix killed."
"Is that why my mum's in custody?" Dagmar started to shake. "She killed someone?"
"She's in custody because it's uncertain, although because she is a Death Eater it is likely she will go to Azkaban anyway. So will Lucius."
Draco sat straight again. "Did my aunt and uncle get caught too?"
"Bellatrix escaped." Dumbledore sighed quietly. "As did Voldemort."
"He was there?" Draco's voice grew raspy. "Where did all this happen?"
"At Ramstad Manor."
That caught Dagmar in the throat like an iron hand. The last time she'd been home—the last time she'd seen her parents—rushed back. Her dad's arms had been tight around her, the scent of tobacco present, and his beard scratchy on her face as he kissed her cheek in goodbye. She would never have that again.
Despite working against it, the sharp pain in Dagmar's throat spilled upward into blurred eyes and an inability to catch her breath. Draco put his arm around her. Snape said something from where he stood off to the side, but Dagmar didn't register anything but Dumbledore's office door opening and closing again.
Dagmar wiped her cheeks after the worst of it passed. She barely had the strength to pull away from Draco, but she had more questions for Dumbledore.
"What did you have to do with this?" she asked.
Dumbledore bowed his head. If his gaze didn't come back up, Dagmar would've thought he was trying to avoid her. "I will not lie to you, Dagmar. I had my part. As I believe you are aware thanks to Harry, there is a group of witches and wizards led by me with the sole goal of opposing Voldemort. We became aware of your parents' possible affiliation with him over the summer, and it was later confirmed.
"There are many who serve Voldemort that do not do so willingly. We had strong reason to believe that your parents fell into that category. If they required protection, we were prepared to offer it. It has worked in the past. It unfortunately didn't, this time. We will know more after your mother is interrogated, but possibly they were in too deep to believe we could help. There was apparently a moment where they seemed convinced, but they changed their mind. Your father used his Dark Mark to summon Voldemort."
Anger boiled up to overtake Dagmar's grief. It wasn't exactly news to her that her parents were fools. They'd proven it yet again to her, and look what that got them. Her father was dead. Her mother would spend the rest of her life in Azkaban. Was it worth it?
"I can't believe how stupid they were." Dagmar's voice trembled. "I never understood. I never will."
"To say it's unfortunate is to speak lightly," Dumbledore replied. "I too had wished this conversation could go very differently on yesterday's heels. Now, there is one more thing we must discuss. Because there were deaths, it will not stay quiet. By Monday, news of it will reach the school by other means."
Dagmar's stomach dropped so fast she thought she might be sick.
"Considering the circumstances," Dumbledore continued, "I believe it could be arranged for you two to briefly leave Hogwarts and take some time to grieve while the student body has time to digest it. Do you have any family you would like to contact?"
"My mother, but. . ." Draco trailed off with a rough swallow. Dagmar shook her head in answer to Dumbledore's question.
"Rest assured we are looking for her," Dumbledore told Draco. "I can't make any promises, but given the circumstances we believe that she will accept an offer for sanctuary. As soon as we find her, we'll let you know. We will arrange for you all to see each other. If finding her proves a difficult task, then we will keep you updated."
Draco couldn't turn any paler if he himself keeled over.
"Should we even leave Hogwarts?" Dagmar asked. "Will Voldemort come after us?"
"When we speak of him, please keep in mind that I don't know everything," Dumbledore told her. "I know him well enough to make educated guesses, and that is it. That said, I don't believe he would consider you loose ends or targets of retribution for losing some of his followers in such fashion. This is a detail I neglected to mention earlier but the reason your father died, Dagmar, was because he took that Killing Curse for Voldemort. I do not know your father's motivations, but I don't believe Voldemort would see it as anything other than the greatest sacrifice one of his followers could make for him. What you should brace for instead is attempted recruitment."
"Nei," Dagmar whispered.
"It was an Auror that killed your father, whether they intended to or not," Dumbledore said. "Voldemort will use that. He will also use how the wizarding world will view and treat you knowing that your parents are Death Eaters. He will try to make you see that you have nowhere else to turn."
"We do, though." Dagmar's anger swelled again. "He destroyed my family. He put my father in the ground three years ago when he gave him that mark. I haven't had parents for years. I've just been living with Death Eaters that cared more about him than me, whether they wanted to or not."
"I'm relieved you're wise enough to see that." Dumbledore offered a brief smile. "We'll keep in touch as the situation unravels. If you're planning on remaining at Hogwarts for now, it could still be arranged for you to take some time away from lessons. It wouldn't put a stopper on your homework, but it's some sort of breather. If Narcissa is not found by the beginning of the Easter holidays, Draco, Professor Snape has offered to make contact with Voldemort to see what kind of inside information he could possibly obtain."
Draco nodded mindlessly. His gaze had gone long, stuck to the front of Dumbledore's desk. He snapped back a bit to himself when a knock sounded at the office door. Professor Snape had returned. Behind him was Blaise, his expression set not much differently than Draco's had been.
"Your friends wanted to come back with me after I informed the house of your losses," Snape told Dagmar and Draco. "The rest are waiting for you down below."
"Was there anything else?" Dagmar asked Dumbledore.
"Not at the moment. Feel free to go if you have no more questions."
Dagmar nodded just as shakily as she stood. Blaise maybe tried to smile at her, but it didn't arrive beyond him pressing his lips together. He pulled her into a hug. "I'm sorry."
She nodded against his shoulder, numbness returning. Draco looked about as present when Blaise moved on to him, but he at least had the mind to pat Blaise's shoulder.
Professor Snape stayed up in the office. Dagmar appreciated the buffer Blaise offered between her and the rest of their friends. She didn't feel so ashamed with him because he already knew about this part of her home life. Dagmar really wished this wasn't how the rest of them learned.
At least they had still come. Daphne looked like she'd taken the brunt of the blow between them all, her eyes dry and nose red. Theo looked like he'd swallowed a handful of nails. Milly was the first of them to hug Dagmar, Luca the second. He sniffled near her ear before letting her go.
"I'm so sorry," Daphne whispered to Dagmar as she started crying again. "That's awful. I can't believe it."
When Snape said he'd informed the house, Dagmar wondered how far that went. Surely he couldn't have told them all what Dumbledore had up in his office. Dagmar felt sick at the idea of having to break that news all on her own, or for Draco to have to. It seemed to have hit him anew when faced with their friends' grief for the situation. He tried his hardest to keep it all in and while he succeeded, his expression was pained.
"We were going to bring you back downstairs," Blaise said with a clear of his throat. "If you guys need some time alone. . ."
"I don't know," Draco managed. "Maybe."
Draco hardly felt like he was keeping himself together. The shock was wearing off fast and he hated how far away Dumbledore's office was from where he was going. Even if other students weren't actually staring or hadn't even noticed the mood he, Dagmar, and their friends were in, Draco felt like they were. He didn't know what to do with himself except to just keep moving. Every step was a conscious effort.
The common room was the toughest place to be. Everyone fell silent when they arrived. Draco's mother might be gone. His father was, if he would spend the rest of his life in Azkaban. As much as he hated to think it, Draco wished he had the same certainty about his mum that Dagmar did about her dad. It felt dangerous to hope, but he couldn't help that he did.
Thankfully as they approached the boys' dorm, Dagmar did what Draco couldn't and told their friends that ultimately they did need some time to themselves to process. The dorm felt safe. They had some privacy. They weren't under Dumbledore's gaze, or their friends', or any of the rubberneckers they may have passed in the corridors.
Draco lingered in the centre and rubbed his face while Dagmar closed the door, unsure what to even do with himself. He went along with Dagmar when she led him by the hand over to his bed. She shut the curtain as well.
Laid down together, Draco felt least on display after burying his face in Dagmar's neck. Fingers ran through his hair about as mindlessly as Draco rubbed Dagmar's back. He let his grief and concern run free, but not for long. Draco swallowed it all back when he realized he was the only one with a wet face. Dagmar's expression was blank although she looked exhausted when he met her gaze.
"All right?" It was probably the stupidest thing Draco could ask in the moment, but Dagmar wasn't reacting at all how he expected she would.
"They had the chance," Dagmar replied. "Why didn't they take it?"
"I don't know."
A new shine developed in Dagmar's eyes as her gaze darted about. "I guess I had a feeling this would happen, that someone would die or someone would go to prison. If they were close to switching, do you think it would've made a difference if we gave Potter or Snape anything when they asked?"
Draco pulled Dagmar closer when her eyes reddened with irritation. She sniffled as her fingers dug into his back.
"I don't know," Draco repeated. "You can't blame yourself."
"Why not?" she replied. "I could've done something. I could've done literally anything at all."
"You can't know that. We didn't know anything anyway."
The last words Draco's father spoke to him drifted unsolicited through his mind: What would you know about the Dark Lord? Dagmar's the child of some of his most loyal followers. You can't imagine the sacrifices they've made to him.
"I think they were in over their heads," Draco said when Dagmar didn't respond other than to wipe her eyes and sniffle again. "There's nothing we could've done if not even Dumbledore could help them."
"I wonder if my dad wanted to die," Dagmar's voice trembled, "if he just wanted it to be over."
A pit opened in Draco's stomach, leaving him nauseous as Dagmar's frame racked with quiet sobs. Draco's face pulled into a grimace by its own accord. His heart ached to be unable to do anything to help her. His own vision blurred again at the shared sentiment when she said she wanted her dad. The two of them had snubbed their parents all year, trying to distance themselves. Draco would have never guessed after his father lifted his cane to him for the last time that that decision would've been made for them by bigger powers than they could reckon. Draco wanted his mum more than anything right now.
Draco kept on stroking Dagmar's hair when the acuteness of her grief passed again. She seemed to notice now the occasional kiss Draco pressed to the top of her head, enough so to lift her face and receive one to the forehead instead.
Dagmar looked in thought. While Draco watched her, her eyes dulled despite their lingering wetness.
"There's something I could've done to avoid all of this." Her voice was even and low. "I had a chance in the graveyard. I should've taken it."
Whether it would've worked or not, Draco didn't doubt Dagmar hated You-Know-Who enough right now to be genuinely regretful she hadn't hit him with something more fatal than lightning.
"There's no point thinking like that," Draco told her. "Can't go back."
"I know." Dagmar resettled her head on the pillow. "It just feels good to think about."
Draco nodded mindlessly. He focused on Dagmar again when she cupped his cheek to get his attention.
"You're worried about your mum, aren't you?" she asked.
Nauseous again, Draco nodded.
"What do you think happened? If your father defended Voldemort until the Aurors took him down, he wouldn't be angry at her or anything."
"If he took her, I'm scared he'll use her." Draco swallowed. "Dumbledore said he might try to recruit us. What if he wants to use my mum to lure us in?"
"Would he have to? We've already lost everyone else."
"I don't know, but what if he does?"
"He can try." Dagmar didn't look as convinced at that assertion as she studied Draco. Her forehead wrinkled. "You need to promise me right now that you'd never fall for that. I couldn't handle it, Draco. I can't lose anyone else."
"What am I supposed to do if he does?"
"Anything but that."
That didn't leave Draco anywhere to go. If word reached him that he either needed to join or something would happen to his mother, he couldn't just leave her to You-Know-Who's devices.
"Promise me." Dagmar's eyes shone again. "If it comes to that we'll figure it out, but that's not the way."
Draco studied her. "You'd help me?"
"Of course I would."
Amongst all the crushing uncertainty and fear, Draco felt a flicker of relief. He pushed Dagmar's hair away from her face before resting his forehead against hers.
"We'll figure it out then," he said. "Just like we always do."