Chapter 28: The Order

Rather than go through everything at Ramstad Manor all at once, Draco suggested Dagmar just do a little bit each day. She was more than fine while in her room, which Draco could empathize with. It was easy to forget about the rest of the manor house while in your own space. Dagmar had held onto all the letters Draco sent her from before they got their messengers. Her grin was big as she reread a few, which made up for misty eyes as she went through her jewelry.

She'd come across the bracelet Draco's mum gave her for her birthday. "I was so sad I'd left it here. If I'd known how we would leave your place later, I would've taken it."

"You have it now," Draco reassured her as they sat together on the edge of the bed. "It doesn't matter."

What did though was the connotations of how they'd left. It had been so long since Draco and Dagmar talked about what happened in the graveyard that Draco forgot the details.

"Do you think You-Know-Who will still try to recruit us without my mum?" Draco asked.

Dagmar hummed in thought while her mouth worked. "He might. I could see why he'd try. It would be really easy from his perspective to see that the Aurors were directly responsible for what happened to our parents. He might think we want revenge."

"When you went in with him last summer, did it seem like something he was angling for?"

"He didn't ask anything about intent to serve, but maybe he was sizing me up with wanting me to show him the Heafonfýr Curse."

"What exactly did he talk to you about?"

Draco's question turned Dagmar nervous. She fiddled with her bracelet, gaze stuck to it, and didn't look up when Draco touched her arm encouragingly.

"He used Legilimency on me," Dagmar eventually said. "He was digging around in my mind. He saw Marc, that Muggle that I almost hit with the Curse in Nice. Then there was that house I used to always dream of. Erm. . ."

"And?" Draco prompted her.

Dagmar cursed quietly under her breath. "I swore I'd never tell another soul, so you need to keep it yourself."

"Okay," Draco agreed, but he couldn't deny such a preface made him nervous.

"I lied about what happened to Grim." Dagmar became incredibly interested in one jewel in particular on her bracelet. "He didn't wander off. He was sick but he just wouldn't go. He was suffering. I had to do it for him."

Draco's heart sunk with pity. "With the Killing Curse, or what?"

Dagmar nodded, mouth down-turned. She wiped an eye. "He deserved to go peacefully. I could tell he understood too when the time came. Maybe I'm just saying this to make myself feel better, but I think he was relieved it was over."

Draco rubbed Dagmar's back. He couldn't imagine finding the strength to do that for an animal. The very idea of maybe having to for Heimdall had they found him injured beyond help around Christmas had stressed Draco right out.

"That's what Voldemort saw, anyway." Dagmar chanced a glance at Draco. "That I'd used the Killing Curse before. I don't know what he was after with that house either, but I haven't seen it since."

"Yeah, you haven't had nightmares like you used to at all."

"Nagini said something while I was there," Dagmar said. "She asked Voldemort if it was true I could understand them."

Draco's stomach volleyed downward again. "So your parents must have told him you're a Parselmouth, then."

"Must have." Dagmar shrugged. "That was it. Then we went to the graveyard."

Draco nodded slowly.

"What're you thinking?"

"We must be in his sights," Draco said. "We probably look like prime candidates to replace our parents. It might be inevitable he approaches us, or someone on his behalf like Aunt Bella."

"Do you think he would come all the way to Norway?"

"Maybe. It's not that far."

"What do you think we should do, then?" Dagmar looked at him. "He's not someone you say no to, and I have no interest in getting involved with all that."

Draco rolled his bottom lip through his teeth. "Maybe we ought to talk to Dumbledore. I had a thought that if we can't say no to You-Know-Who we might have to do like Snape's done all this time, but I don't know. It sounds a lot easier said than done. If it's something we might have to consider I want to know everything Dumbledore knows. I want him to know it's not us genuinely becoming Death Eaters."

"Maybe we're thinking a little far ahead." Dagmar turned more to face him. "We should at least talk to Dumbledore about everything we learned about your mum. If they don't need to be looking for her—if maybe it's best they don't—they need to know that. They could focus those resources somewhere else."

"For sure." Draco kissed Dagmar's forehead. "And thanks for trusting me with the other stuff. I can tell it wasn't easy to."

"Well. . ." A glimpse of shame returned to Dagmar. "I probably would have sooner if we didn't have Heimr. I didn't want you to worry I might hurt him."

"I don't. Turns out I was right." Draco nudged her with his shoulder, smile warm. "You're more likely to help than harm. I would say you helped Grim. Surely you must agree or you wouldn't have done it."

"Ja, it's just using that curse that puts me on the fence about it." Dagmar shrugged. "It's been used to end a lot of human lives. It has its practical uses, but I realize it's probably taboo with everything going on right now."

While Draco understood why Dagmar would keep that to herself for so long, he didn't share in her concern. He wanted to handle beasts when he left Hogwarts and there would probably come times he needed to put something down. If a dragon broke its spine and it wouldn't survive, would Draco rather let it writhe there in pain until either dehydration, shock, or wild animals got it, or would he put it out of its misery? The answer seemed obvious, as it did with Grim.

Draco and Dagmar were back at Malfoy Manor on Thursday working on their homework in the garden when Kingsley came up on the terrace.

"Sorry, you didn't answer the front door," he said. "Let's talk about Sunday. Did you still want to go to the Zabini residence for dinner?"

"If we can," Draco replied.

"I'll escort you personally," Kingsley told them. "I won't go in with you or anything, just wait outside. Luzia agreed to my office setting up the proper precautions beforehand."

"Great." Dagmar smiled. "Thanks. We appreciate that."

"I also have a question for you, Draco." Kingsley came up closer, hands in his pockets. "When your mother went missing, word of it reached your aunt Andromeda since your cousin works under me. She was curious if you were interested in meeting."

Draco looked at Dagmar, who nudged his foot with her own. "Sure. Just her?"

"Your uncle and cousin too, if you want."

"Okay." Because Draco's mum never talked about her second sister, he actually forgot about her. It was nice to have other family that had thought about him. "Hey, we have a question for you too."

Kingsley lifted his jaw. "What's that?"

"We figured out what's going on with my mum," Draco said. "We were also thinking maybe we ought to meet with Dumbledore or whoever to talk about it? I don't know what his schedule is like on the holidays."

"There's an Order meeting tomorrow if you're interested," Kingsley replied.

Draco looked at Dagmar again, who shrugged. "That means everyone would be there?"

"Pretty much, I think. Dumbledore would meet with you privately if you'd rather."

Draco nodded. "I think we would. What time should we be ready?"

"How about noon?"

Draco couldn't decide where to land on how he felt about it in the meantime. He went through cycles of realizing he and Dagmar had to do what they had to do, and then wondering if this was really the answer. They hadn't ever been able to offer Potter or Dumbledore anything before, so what use were they now to this Order Kingsley was talking about? Was anything they might have worthy of protection in return?

The two of them were ready early, so Draco paced in the great room while Dagmar tapped her fingers against her thigh where she sat. Finally, a knock came at the manor door. Kingsley stood on the portico with a witch maybe in her mid-twenties that had bright blue, curly hair. She smiled at Draco.

"This is Nymphodora," Kingsley introduced her. "She prefers to go by Tonks."

"I'm the aforementioned cousin," Tonks said brightly with a wink. "Wotcher."

"Cheers," Draco replied. He felt a little awkward about meeting his only first-cousin at nearly eighteen years old. It didn't seem to bother her as much.

"We'll apparate with you to the street outside the place," Kingsley told them after Dagmar had greeted Tonks with a wave.

"Okay."

Draco set a hand on Kingsley's wrist. The portico vanished in place of a worn down street. It didn't look like somewhere at all for this sort of meeting. Regardless, Draco pulled up the rear behind Kingsley and Tonks on the front steps. His nerves abated a little when Dagmar's hand slipped into his.

"Keep quiet once we're inside," Kingsley warned Draco and Dagmar. "Just for the foyer."

Draco, Dagmar, and Kingsley all kept their feet light but Tonks walked directly into an umbrella stand.

"Tonks!" Kingsley yelled in exasperation. Both of them braced themselves and then Draco jumped as a set of curtains on the wall flew open to reveal his great-aunt Walburga. Her eyes burned with fury as her gaze swept over the four of them.

"MORE FILTH IN THIS HOUSE!" she screamed, her voice reverberating. "THEY TRACK IT IN LIKE RUBBISH OFF THE STREET! BLOOD-TRAITORS, THE LOT OF YOU! EVEN THE MALFOY NAME HAS BEEN BESMIRCHED! MY POOR NIECE, MARRYING INTO SUCH TRAITOROUS SCUM AS THAT—!"

"A hand, Draco?" Kingsley asked as he tugged on one end of the curtains.

"Oh—sorry." Draco leapt forward out of his shock.

Dagmar rubbed her ears once Walburga had been covered and silenced. "Who is that?"

"She used to be the matriarch of this house," Kingsley explained. "We can't get the portrait off the wall so we just have to deal with it."

"She's actually gotten quite docile in her old age," Tonks jested. "See, I told you, we probably should've left that stand on the other side. Or just stick it down somewhere else so Kreacher can't put it right back."

"It doesn't matter except for my ringing ears," Kingsley replied. "Come down to the kitchen, you two."

Draco looked around as they went deeper into the house. There were stairs heading up, from where Draco could hear the murmur of voices. He hesitated when they passed by the familiar parlour they'd arrived in from Dumbledore's office last weekend. Another set of stairs led down into the kitchen. Even though Draco had never met his aunt Andromeda before, he recognized her immediately as being his mum's sister. She looked quite strikingly like Aunt Bella but without the clearly gone mental status.

She caught him off-guard with a motherly hug. "How nice to finally meet you. I always heard that Narcissa had a little boy—although I suppose you're not so little anymore, are you?"

"Not really," Draco replied with a nervous chuckle.

She stepped aside so that a man with lighter hair and a bit of a belly could extend a hand. His eyes crinkled as he smiled and Aunt Andromeda ran a hand down his back.

"This is Ted, my husband," she introduced him.

"Cheers," Ted said with a hearty shake.

"And this is my girlfriend, Dagmar." Draco gestured at her.

Dagmar greeted both of them with a shy wave. "Hei."

Aunt Andromeda pulled her into a hug as well. "Oh my dear, I'm sure you're so tired of hearing this by now, but I'm sorry about your parents. The whole thing is just so unfortunate."

"Ja," Dagmar sighed. "Thank you, though."

Kingsley had slipped out of the room at some point, leaving Draco and Dagmar alone with Tonks, Aunt Andromeda and Uncle Ted. It was then that Draco noticed a decrepit looking house elf meandering around the kitchen and pretending to clean. He muttered to himself, ". . .must be the Malfoy boy, Master doesn't like him, doesn't trust him, does he have the Dark Mark? My old mistress would like him. . .Narcissa always was her favourite niece after Bellatrix. . ."

"Oh don't mind him," Tonks said with a wave of her hand. "We've all just come to accept him as he is, haven't we, Kreacher?"

Kreacher kept on as if he hadn't heard her, ". . .blue hair, Mistress always said never trust blue hair. . ."

With a laugh, Tonks scrunched up her face. Her hair grew out lime green from the roots. Dagmar gasped excitedly beside Draco. "You're a Metamorphmagus!"

"Sure am."

"Come sit, anyway." Andromeda touched Draco's arm before gesturing at the table. "I brought us all lunch."

"This isn't your place?" Draco asked.

"Oh—no, no." Andromeda laughed as she returned to where she'd previously been drinking tea. "No, Aunt Walburga would've never left this place to me. It belongs to Harry Potter."

Draco hesitated halfway down into his seat. "This is Potter's house?"

"Mhm. Sirius left it to him."

"Oh." Draco felt a little uncomfortable. He knew he'd be seeing Potter today with the Order meeting, but didn't realize he'd be visiting his home.

Kreacher passed the table by as he headed for the exit. He was still muttering, ". . .Mistress always liked Lucius. . .came from a good family. . ."

"I hate to jump topics, but Tonks told me that your mum's come up missing." Andromeda's smile slipped away. "What happened? Do you know?"

"Er, yeah. . ."

Telling Aunt Andromeda about his mum's plan to leave his father was slightly embarrassing for Draco, but it was decent practice for when he'd have to explain it to a big group of people who all at one point Draco had seen as enemies. Andromeda at least took it as good news, although she wondered aloud why Narcissa wouldn't have come to her ("Too obvious I suppose, or maybe she was too proud when it's been so long"). With such a heavy topic out of the way, Andromeda and Ted were more apt to ask Draco and Dagmar about their lives, tell them about theirs, and Tonks had plenty of interesting stories from being an Auror. A couple hours wound up enough time for Draco to relax, and it saddened him a little that he'd never had the chance up until now to know them.

"Keep in touch," Andromeda told him as she hugged him goodbye. "Well, see if you have time anyway after getting on as a dragonologist."

Draco laughed. "I'm sure I'll find some."

Tonks followed her parents to see them off, leaving Draco and Dagmar alone in the kitchen. Dagmar pulled Draco into a long hug and rubbed his back with a sigh. "I'm so happy you still have family."

"Me too." Draco nuzzled her shoulder.

Andromeda reminded Draco a lot of his mum, which made him miss her all the more. He wondered if his mum ever missed Andromeda, if she ever thought of her, since Draco couldn't imagine his mum felt any less isolated than Draco was starting to realize he had been. It wasn't as if his mum could surround herself with people like Andromeda while still pretending to be sympathetic with You-Know-Who.

Draco resumed his seat along with Dagmar and started to get nervous again. Lunch with his aunt and uncle had gone swimmingly enough, but he still wasn't sure how sitting down with Dumbledore would go. Draco couldn't help but wish that Andromeda and Ted were active Order members so that he'd have someone familiar with all of this to ground him.

Steps sounded again down the kitchen stairs and Draco looked up as Dumbledore walked in. Draco toyed with his long-empty teacup, unsure if he should refill it. He'd already needed to pee for a while but didn't really feel like finding a toilet here to use.

Dumbledore closed the door behind him and gave them both a smile. "How are your aunt and uncle doing?"

"Good, sounds like," Draco replied. "It was nice to finally meet them."

"And how about you two?" Dumbledore asked as he sat down opposite them. "All right?"

"Ja, all considering." Dagmar nodded jerkily beside Draco. "It's certainly been a long week, but it's gone better than expected."

"Does that mean you have some good news concerning Narcissa?"

"You could call it that." Draco opened his jacket to retrieve his mother's letter from an inside pocket. "It came with a trade-off. My mother had been planning on leaving my father for a while and that was the night she chose to go. I don't think she knew what was happening at Ramstad Manor."

Draco hesitated about handing the letter over. There were other things in it that might be better left private, like the bit about his and Dagmar's arrangement. Draco fiddled with it instead, relieved that Dumbledore's hands remained folded in front of him. He made no move to try and take it.

"The house elves gave me this," Draco continued. "My mum gave it to one of them for safe-keeping before Christmas. The house elves said that my parents were having dinner that evening, my father left because his Dark Mark burned, and then my mother went upstairs. Aunt Bella came by later looking for her, but she was gone by then."

"Bellatrix must have gone there after fleeing Ramstad Manor," Dumbledore said. "Does the letter say where your mother went?"

"No, just not to worry about her and that she'll reach out to me when it's safe to."

Dumbledore nodded. "Severus did indeed go looking for her at the beginning of the holiday, but he had no luck. Well, he was looking for her indirectly by seeking out Voldemort, but he's vanished as well. If Voldemort was using your manors as headquarters for operations, he will have to find somewhere new now with both of them buffered by Aurors and other protections."

"I think if my mum doesn't want to be found, she won't be," Draco replied.

"Probably not." Dumbledore gave him a warm smile. "If she ends up reaching out to me first, if say you happen to have left the country by that time and she cannot locate you, I will let you know immediately."

The weight of everything unspoken between them was becoming overtly obvious to Draco with mention of him leaving the country. He'd never told Dumbledore that directly. He would have either heard it through Potter or Snape.

Draco hesitated, debating it, then decided to bite the bullet. "Could I ask you something?"

"Of course."

"There's been times over the year that Potter or Professor Snape have said things to me that make it sound like we get talked about in the meetings they go to. What's there to say about us?"

"Oh, plenty." Draco couldn't decide if Dumbledore sounding so cheerful about it made him feel better or worse for the answer he got. "Last summer when Harry turned of-age and was finally old enough to join the Order, we began preparing for how his final year at Hogwarts may change the dynamic of the war. We narrowed down a short list of students to watch in your year that were known to have Death Eaters as parents. There was you two as well as Theodore, Gregory, and Vincent.

"Since then we have slowly been gathering information. It didn't take us terribly long to realize you two had no affiliation with Voldemort. We didn't think Gregory and Vincent would, given that their fathers defected. Theodore showed no signs toward it either."

"Potter asked me about them in November," Draco recalled. "I wasn't sure he'd believe me."

"You were essentially confirming what he already knew." Dumbledore nodded. "The real test Harry intended by asking those questions was to see what level of transparency you would be willing to show. You were up-front with that as well as your plans for the future. You may find it interesting or amusing perhaps to learn that Severus told nobody but me your intentions to become a dragonologist."

Draco couldn't suppress a smirk. "I imagine Potter didn't like that."

"No, so when you told him it was the first he heard about it," Dumbledore replied. "With that, we had nowhere else to go with the five names we started with at the beginning of the year. In December, we made contact with some Death Eaters that were willing to give us information in exchange for protection from Voldemort. That was how we confirmed that Erik and Hildegard—" Dumbledore glanced at Dagmar, "—were involved."

Dagmar's brow furrowed slightly. "It had to have been Crabbe and Goyle's dads."

"What makes you say that?" Dumbledore asked.

"I saw Death Eaters once in a while at my manor," Dagmar said. "Mr. Malfoy was there a lot. I—maybe Bellatrix, once. When my parents first joined, I saw Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle a couple of times. I don't think Mr. Malfoy, Rodolphus, or Bellatrix would've turned spy. Mr. Malfoy maybe—" Dagmar ran her thumb over Draco's hand where she held it under the table, "—but considering he's in Azkaban and not under Order protection. . ."

"You're right," Dumbledore conceded with the type of smile he probably would've given one of his students back when he still taught. "Hugo and Everett gave us the names of the Death Eaters they'd been working with on a job for Voldemort. At that time, for verification, they gave us the same memory of when they first met your parents. Their memories aligned, so we deemed their information to be valid.

"It was also within that memory that we began to question your parents' allegiance to Voldemort. Harry noticed first how clearly they didn't want to be there. They appeared only to be because they had something to mutually gain from what Voldemort sought. Or who, more accurately."

Draco's intrigue piqued at that, for he had no real idea what You-Know-Who did on a day-to-day basis rather than evilly brood and occasionally test the loyalty of his followers. It was Dagmar that replied, "Who were they looking for?"

"Does the name Magnus Norheim mean anything to you?"

The furrow in Dagmar's brow returned. "Nei. . .I'm sorry."

Whether that disappointed Dumbledore or he expected it, he didn't show. He merely nodded before continuing. "We considered the possibility anyway that whatever this man was carrying was of great value to Voldemort. It also clearly meant something to your parents. We thought that if we were also searching for Magnus, they would be more apt to join us.

"I think you know the rest of the story from there." Dumbledore aged a little before Draco's eyes. "For whatever reason, they couldn't trust us more than Voldemort about it. I don't understand."

"Join the club," Dagmar said. "I get it more now, but I don't know what my parents would've been looking for. Up until they joined, I felt like we had everything. Nothing was ever missing. We never hurt for anything."

"We looked into your family's background in attempt to find what that might have been," Dumbledore replied, "which brings us back to Draco's question. What do we know about you? We knew that the Malfoys hosted you while your manor was being searched. You and Draco were betrothed around this time as Draco's arrangement changed—" (Draco's face grew warm) "—and that by mid-July you two had already decided to leave the country after Hogwarts and had no intentions of joining the Death Eaters. Kingsley of course informed us of your run-in with the French Ministry, Dagmar. You both returned to Hogwarts looking worse for wear, and then Severus deduced the black eye Draco came back with may have been the result of denouncing Voldemort to Lucius. Ever since then, you have been estranged from your parents spare Narcissa to a degree. Those care packages you receive are the envy of the school, including some of us up at the staff table." Dumbledore's eyes glimmered briefly with amusement. "As far as children of Death Eaters go, you are as normal as can be expected. You focused entirely on your studies this year in attempt to give yourselves something better."

Draco was left a little lost for words. How he felt now, having thought he and Dagmar were so sneaky about everything, was similar to how his mum's letter made him feel regarding Dagmar. In the silence that followed, Draco unfolded it again and reread the paragraph about his and Dagmar's arranged marriage. If Dumbledore already knew about it, there was no point trying to hide it under the guise Draco didn't feel like explaining the context of that particular paragraph. He slid the letter toward Dumbledore.

"My mum talked a bit there about our arranged marriage," he said. "She wanted me to go with Dagmar because Hildegard knew Dagmar had no interest in any of You-Know-Who's business. I think she knew where I was going—where I might wind up—and it was her attempt at helping me find my way out."

Dumbledore reached for the letter and adjusted his glasses as he read it through. When he was done, he refolded it and pushed it back. He studied Draco.

"I never believed you were a bad person, Draco," he said. "Nobody truly is, or they're at least not born that way. You came into this world at a disadvantage. You were born during a time of fear and unrest in the wizarding world and into a family that believed their prominence could only be upheld by Voldemort's view of a new world order. Your father remained out of prison after Voldemort's disappearance which, while every child deserves their father, gave him free reign in raising you with the same beliefs.

"I've watched you closely over the years. When you first arrived at Hogwarts, your upbringing was clear. Lucius obviously believed that Voldemort would rise again and he had prepared you to belong to that future. I'm unsure how long precisely it took you, but over time you must have realized that most other witches and wizards do not think the same way as him. You tried to insist upon it because if Voldemort came back to full power you didn't want to meet the same fate as some of those that had previously opposed him. At the same time, those beliefs were beginning to slip. Harry has told me some of the things you've said to him over the years. They grew increasingly nasty as your need to reassert those beliefs became greater.

"I found it very intriguing you became interested in dragons." Dumbledore smiled at him again. "Dragonologists are among the elite of the wizarding world. They're revered for their bravery, cunning, resourcefulness, and everything else that qualifies them to handle the most dangerous beasts of all. You would feel comfortable amongst them because you're used to exclusive groups. As a dragonologist, nobody could deny you as a great wizard. Not your father, not even Harry.

"It also gave you an external reason not to become an active Death Eater. If Voldemort came back, you would be too far away and too busy to be able to concern yourself with his affairs."

Draco considered it all carefully. He supposed it was all true, but he'd never been able to think about it that way before. His early years at Hogwarts had been plagued by anxiety. It made him feel better in the moment to reassert those old beliefs because even if his father wasn't there, Draco knew he was pleasing him. Then the self-loathing would come for making himself even more alone, then the anxiety returned, and the cycle continued. The best thing that ever happened to Draco was the first task of the Triwizard Tournament. For a glorious afternoon as Potter, Diggory, Delacour, and Krum tried their hand at outsmarting the dragons, all of that had gone quiet. Draco felt the calling.

"You really watched me that closely?" Draco asked.

Dumbledore nodded. "I've been at Hogwarts as a teacher for nearly a hundred years. You begin to notice patterns after a while. The meanest students are usually the ones crying the loudest for help. That you made an enemy out of Harry so quickly was also interesting. I wondered if perhaps your loathing of him over the years stemmed from jealousy, not because he was famous or you felt he received certain privileges but because of how loyal his friends were. There has never been a time during Harry's school years he's been truly alone. He's always surrounded by people that love him and will fight for him if he ever needed them to. You didn't have that—or you didn't feel like you did. It's something we all crave—something we need—as human beings.

"What's become clear from watching you this year is that you now have it. The difference is exactly what I expected. Your days as a bully are behind you. You proved yourself as a formidable force on the Quidditch pitch. Your focus and academic prowess when you apply yourself put you above your peers. Most importantly, you finally seem happy."

Draco's chin dipped down toward his chest. It was easier to look where his and Dagmar's hands were joined than at Dumbledore. He felt it might be too much to even look at Dagmar at the moment.

"I am," he said. "It still hasn't been easy, but it's better."

"Good," Dumbledore replied. "That should more than answer your question as to what I know about you."

Draco's gaze lifted on a snort. "Yeah."

"We've been talking this week about how all of this with our parents might change our future," Dagmar spoke up. "Our original plan was that since we were leaving the country, we'd basically do like you said with Draco as a dragonologist. We just wouldn't be in a place where we could go the route our parents did, so there's no point joining. That way we figured we could still have relationships with our parents. Now, well. . .we don't really know. You said Voldemort might try to recruit us and we don't know what to do if he does. We don't want to join him. I'd say personally I'd rather die, but that's hardly a figure of speech."

"For now there is no sign of Voldemort," Dumbledore said. "You still have a few more months until the end of the school year for things to change. What we're doing is carrying on the search for Magnus Norheim. He's the only real lead we have at the moment about what Voldemort is focused on."

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Dagmar's thumb ran over Draco's again under the table. "I don't know if it's productive for us to really join or anything since we'll be abroad, but on Monday I had to speak with my parents' advocate about the estate. Because my mum is in Azkaban, she can't make any executive decisions. She's not doing very well anyway, so I doubt she'd even be capable. I haven't inherited everything but I have control over it all. I don't think my parents would've been opposed if I offered financial help to the Order. I thought about my manor house too. I think if anyone from my dad's family wanted to move there, I would've heard by now. Considering the reputation it'll have, I doubt any of them will want to. You might as well make use of it."

"That's very generous of you." Dumbledore folded his hands in his lap with a smile. "Almost too generous for me to blindly accept—"

"There aren't any conditions attached to it," Dagmar clarified. "If you need it, you should have it. Our goals are the same. I want Voldemort dead. Defeated, whichever."

"Apologies, I didn't mean to imply you may want us to use your contributions in certain ways or in return for something." Dumbledore raised a hand. "I mean that if you fund us or offer a safe house for Order use that you should at least be aware of what you're investing in. Not that I'm saying you have to become members, but I would just like to mention that we do have members abroad. Charlie Weasley for example recruits witches and wizards in Romania. It was through him I became aware of Professor Parasca. She didn't come here initially as an Order member, but she had a keen interest in allying with us in the Auror office when I told her she's encountered Voldemort before."

"She did?"

"Did Luca ever tell you about that strigoi his mother was chasing in Albania?"

Draco's eyebrows rose. "It was him?"

Dumbledore nodded. "That's where he hid for ten years until he met Professor Quirrell and made his way back to Britain."

"If we could fit being Order members into our regular lives, we didn't see much point against joining," Dagmar replied with a confirming glance at Draco. "When you mention recruiting foreign wizards, I think immediately of my dad's family. They've done it before. They might do it again if Voldemort ever tried to push into Norway. If he's trying to find someone named Magnus Norheim, that might just be where he goes. We could keep an eye out."

"It would certainly be helpful," Dumbledore said.

"So how do we go about doing that, then?" Draco asked. "Is there something we have to sign or anything like that?"

"No." Dumbledore chuckled. "If your interests align with ours and you're equally as motivated to bring peace back to the wizarding world, that's good enough for me. Attending meetings and being active within the organization only speaks to how effective a member you are. We have allies as well, people that align with us like your aunt and uncle, but who aren't active because they aren't in a political position to be."

"I think we'd rather be active if we could," Draco replied.

Dagmar nodded. "We've been passive long enough."

"If that's the case, then welcome," Dumbledore told them. "There's a meeting in another hour or so here if you'd like to stick around. I've probably already told you what we'll be covering with it since I just wanted to update everyone on Voldemort's current activities—or lack thereof—but it would be a chance for you to meet them all."

Draco looked at Dagmar, raising his eyebrows with the silent question. She shrugged and smiled in response, agreeing.

"Sure," Draco said.

"For now it may be a little impossible to avoid some awkward discussions at the table," Dumbledore replied. "Given recent events, your parents have been frequent topics of conversation. If you're open to discussing them, we could do so now so that the things you might hear later don't come as a surprise."

"I honestly don't think there's much you could say that would make me uncomfortable," Dagmar told him. "I'm aware my mum isn't doing well. As of Monday she's tried to kill herself at least twice since landing in Azkaban. I'll admit I'm emotionally distancing myself to keep it from bothering me too much."

"If you already know that, then I don't have to inform you myself," Dumbledore said. "I've been to Azkaban to interrogate her and Lucius. I didn't get anything out of them."

"Too bad."

"We discovered some strange things about your mother when we were digging around in Norway," Dumbledore said. "If you could possibly fill in some blanks, it might help us find Magnus. Because he was an existing concern when your parents first joined Voldemort in 1994, we believe that there may have been some shared history with him from before Voldemort fell in 1981. Do you know where your mother went to school?"

"Kapsferd," Dagmar answered.

Dumbledore shook his head. "She didn't. I looked."

Dagmar blinked, and Draco was stuck right along with her.

"Your father did, as did Magnus," Dumbledore said. "Your mother did not."

"Oh," Dagmar quietly replied.

"What's her maiden name?"

Dagmar's gaze dropped to her lap. She rubbed her forehead.

"Herregud," she said. "I don't know. She never talked about her family. If I asked about them she just changed the subject. I eventually learned not to bother."

"This one might be a stretch because I'm certain you wouldn't remember, but maybe you know anyway," Dumbledore replied. "Do you remember where you lived prior to 1985?"

"I want to say we've always lived in Bergen but I have a feeling if you're asking you're going to tell me that wasn't the case."

"You're unfortunately correct." Dumbledore bowed his head. "Your mother first appears on paper in 1985 when she and your father bought the house now owned by the Dyrdahls. Your father lived in Tromsø until then after leaving Kapsferd in 1979, but we can't place you or your mother there. We can't even find where you were born. If it was in Bergen, it wasn't at Olaf Kyrre."

Dagmar's eyes gradually widened as Dumbledore spoke. Her gaze darted along with the speed of her thoughts.

"I don't know," she hollowly replied. "That's not what I was told. I thought my parents met in school since they're the same age. If they didn't, are you saying they might not have even had enough time to get to know each other before they would've had me?"

"I don't want to make insinuations like that," Dumbledore was quick to say. "This is just where the information we have has led us."

Dagmar leaned forward on the table, forehead in her hand. Her breathing quickened as she hastened to think. "I don't remember anything. It's always just been me, my mum, and my dad. I only remember Bergen. I don't remember being anywhere else. Would I even know it was somewhere else if I did remember it?"

"Probably not," Draco mumbled an answer.

"You don't think. . ." Dagmar was starting to shake. "If my mum and Voldemort knew each other before. . .?"

"I'll admit it's crossed my mind," Dumbledore said. "On a deeper level though, I don't know why it would be true. Everything Voldemort has ever done from the time he was young has had a calculated purpose. He has no interest in the things that make us human. There is no benefit to his goals in having a child. I sincerely doubt that it would've even been something that just happened.

"One must also take into account current events. Your parents joined Voldemort not because he wished to be close to you, but because they were looking for Magnus Norheim. I remember clearly what Voldemort looked like in his youth and you share no traits with him. He had dark hair and dark eyes, which obviously are dominant traits over your blonde hair and blue eyes. Maybe it's possible you have a different father than Erik, but I don't believe it's Voldemort."

Regardless, Dagmar looked like she was about to be sick. Draco didn't blame her. He himself had gone numb since he was completely comfortable that Erik Ramstad was Dagmar's father. Draco rubbed Dagmar's back in comfort, not that it seemed like it was helping.

"You think it was this Magnus?" Dagmar asked.

"Maybe," Dumbledore said. "I however have to apply the same reasoning with him as Voldemort. He too had dark hair and dark eyes. I want to stress because it bears repeating that none of this may be true. It's all conjecture as we try to fill the gaps in our knowledge. You were born fourteen months after your father left Kapsferd. Even if your mother wasn't there with him, that's still plenty of time for them to have met. It could just be that you arrived before their love for each other did. It's not an uncommon way for a child to enter this world."

"Ja," Dagmar shakily replied. "It's just weird. I never questioned anything. I always thought we were normal until they joined Voldemort. We were normal. After the last three years I know what it feels like not to be."

"That's all the information I have about your mother, anyway." Dumbledore's smile was strained. He clearly didn't enjoy upsetting her by it, and Draco was relieved he'd done it here rather than in front of the entire Order later if this got mentioned. "Unless. . .I do have one more question about your background. Do you know where that house is in the nightmares you have?"

Dagmar shook her head. "Do you?"

"No," Dumbledore answered. "There was an initial suspicion, but it was ruled out. Harry and I visited it after he saw the house during your Occlumency unit in Defence Against the Dark Arts. It wasn't the place."

"Where did you think it might be?"

"The Riddle house in Little Hangleton," Dumbledore said. "Voldemort's paternal family used to live there until he murdered his father and grandparents."

Draco's breath caught in his throat. "He. . .?"

Dumbledore nodded, looking old.

"Little Hangleton," Dagmar repeated the name, eyes narrowed. "Potter mentioned it."

"The graveyard he also saw is visible from the Riddle house. It's where Voldemort obtained his new physical body in 1994," Dumbledore explained. "What were you doing there?"

Dagmar slowly turned wide eyes on Draco. The tips of her free hand's fingers covered her mouth and she looked somewhere between terrified and ready to cry. Draco squeezed her hand encouragingly.

"He took me there," Dagmar admitted with a trembling voice. "Voldemort did."

"When?"

"The evening before term started."

"So you have met him."

"Just the once," Dagmar clarified with a rough swallow. "He—" she took a deep breath, "Draco and I were getting packed to leave for the morning. Mr. Malfoy took me downstairs and told me Voldemort wanted to see me. He wanted me to show him the Heafonfýr Curse. I didn't want to. I didn't even have my wand and I was still injured from Nice. When I said I'd rather not do it in Mr. Malfoy's home, we left. Voldemort picked the graveyard because the weather was rotten. He wanted to see what I could do with lightning present. He gave me his wand."

"He gave you his wand," Dumbledore thoughtfully repeated.

"I really cocked up," Dagmar said. "He just wanted me to show him. Professor, I used it on him."

"What did it do? Did he block it?"

"He tried. He got knocked down. I went to check on him because I wasn't sure what happened and he stunned me when I got close." Dagmar paused. "Then I was back at Malfoy Manor. Draco revived me. We left after that. We spent the night on the train."

"I see."

Dumbledore looked in deep thought. For once during this conversation, Draco had the feeling he was actually taken for a loop.

"The good news is that regardless of its potential significance, it happened long enough ago that were there any consequences I'm sure we would've seen them by now," Dumbledore said. "If you managed to get the better of him, I'm inclined to double down on the suspicion that Voldemort may attempt to recruit you. He would rather use you than oppose you after that."

"That's why I thought maybe. . ." With a steadying breath, Dagmar glanced at Draco again. "If he asked us to join, would we make good spies?"

"I would never ask you to put yourself at such personal risk. I also would not recommend it if you're considering doing it regardless."

"What other choice might I have?" Dagmar asked. "I don't want to die if he comes to me and I tell him thanks but no thanks."

"I can appreciate you'd rather prepare for the possibility than simply hope it doesn't come to that." Dumbledore rubbed his chin. "I do hope it doesn't come to that."

"Me too."

"Let me think about it," Dumbledore said. "There are still a couple months before you have to leave Hogwarts. Until then, you're safe. We'll come up with something before the end of June."

That he wasn't upset seemed to help calm Dagmar back down. The tight knot that had developed in Draco's stomach gradually eased as well, but didn't disappear entirely. It had still been an unsettling conversation. Draco thought he and Dagmar were aware of most things going on around them. He wasn't comfortable at all with how ignorant they'd actually been.

"This has probably been enough for now." Dumbledore checked a pocket watch for the time. "Did you still want to attend the meeting? It's due to start in about half an hour. That would give you enough time to rest up a little beforehand."

"Erm. . ." Dagmar looked tired as she looked at Draco. She rubbed her eyes. "We could try?"

"Yeah, maybe give us some time," Draco agreed. "If we're not up to it we could always catch the next one?"

"It's up to you." Dumbledore stood. "Regardless of your choice, I thank you for your time. What you had to say was certainly enlightening. I regret that perhaps I was enlightening as well but in a negative way. If you have any questions about the things we discussed, you don't need to wait until the next Order meeting. You can always come to me privately."

Draco nodded. "Thanks, Professor."

He left the kitchen, closing the door behind him. Once he was gone, Dagmar released a long breath that ended with her face in her hands.

"I didn't expect that," she said when she raised her head again. "I don't really know what to think."

"Me neither." Draco rubbed her back. "Maybe now you know about it all, things will start coming back to you that you used to think were normal."

"Maybe," Dagmar mumbled. "I don't remember anything from when I was that young. Do you?"

"I don't think so."

For now all Draco could think to do was encourage Dagmar to rest her head on his shoulder while he stroked her hair. Such a deluge of information had left him similarly numb.

"What do you think about the meeting?" Dagmar asked a little while later.

"I'm kind of tired," Draco said, "but I think it's important we stay if we can. If we're joining them we might as well jump right in. What do you think?"

"Ja," Dagmar quietly agreed. "It's not like there'll be anything else to know, right? Dumbledore said he's just updating them on what Voldemort is doing right now, which is nothing."

"They'll probably want to know about my mum."

Dagmar nodded. "I'm okay to push through if you are."

They took some time to enjoy the quiet then. The odd sound came from elsewhere in the house, voices or footsteps carrying over above. A doorbell went which set Great-Aunt Walburga off again. From a distance and not having to deal with it, Draco felt tickled by it.

He found a toilet around the stairs and washed his face along with his hands after using it. Some cold water felt refreshing. Dagmar seemed to think the same, since she came out with slightly damp hair at the front. Draco was starting to feel more like himself when a knock came at the kitchen door.

"Er, come in," he said.

A red head popped in. Molly Weasley smiled warmly after looking them over.

"Hello, dears," she greeted them. "I hope it's all right I came down. I was going to put on tea for the meeting. Were you sticking around?"

Draco nodded jerkily. "We figured we might as well meet everyone."

"Good! We're glad to have you." Mrs. Weasley ran the water to fill a massive kettle. "I don't think it was expected, but you're certainly welcome."

"Yeah, we didn't expect it either," Draco admitted. "Things change, I guess."

"You two have been holding up all right?" she asked.

"Probably about as well as could be expected," Dagmar said with a mirthless chuckle. "Maybe on the better side of things all considering. It's hard to say if everything has really sunk in yet."

"We all grieve in our own ways," Mrs. Weasley turned away from the sink to say to them. "I found it's different during war too. There's a sort of. . .I don't want to call it expectation, but surprise doesn't come so easily."

"Who did you lose?"

"My brothers."

"Oh." Dagmar shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I'm sorry."

"Thank you, dear."

The kitchen door opened again. Draco pressed his lips together, unsure how to properly handle the arrival of Potter, Weasley, and Granger.

Granger beamed when she saw Dagmar and made a beeline around the table. Dagmar stood in time to receive a tight hug. Granger sighed when she let her go. "It's good to see you. Have your holidays been okay so far?"

While they sat down and quickly went into comparing notes about their homework, Draco warily eyed Potter as he took a seat across from him. Weasley was more interested in bothering his mum in the kitchen, working his way around her in attempt to see what was available in the ice box.

Potter mirrored Draco's crossed arms. "All right?"

Draco nodded stiffly. "You?"

"Mhm."

Weasley came back to the table with cakes in hand. Draco was spared having to force conversation by other people starting to file into the kitchen. Dumbledore returned along with Tonks, Kingsley, and some other people Draco didn't recognize but figured were Aurors. Mr. Weasley came, as well as the twins. They forced an embarrassed smile out of Draco as they pointed at him like a zoo exhibit.

"Well, look who it is!" one yelled over all the conversations happening around them.

"Fred, just sit down," Mrs. Weasley sternly told him. "You don't need to behave like that."

They ended up coming around the table toward the empty seats beside Draco. One of the twins—Draco couldn't tell them apart—clapped him on the shoulder in passing. They dropped down into their seats with such gusto Draco was surprised the chairs didn't break underneath them.

"So what's going on then?" the closest one asked. "I heard a little whisper that the Gryffindor Quidditch team has been suffering without us this year. Shame we couldn't come back to finish up our NEWTs and lend a hand, eh Ron?"

"Shut up." Weasley turned bright red.

"Yeah, we stomped them," Draco said with a smirk and shrug. "They handled their own against Hufflepuff, though."

Discussing Quidditch was an easy way to avoid anything deeper than skin level. Whether it counted as cheating or not, Draco shared with Potter some tips from playing Ravenclaw that might help him in the final match, while Potter did the same about Hufflepuff. They'd both seen the other's game so the information wasn't exactly new. Draco still appreciated something just to fill the air between them.

Meanwhile, the rest of the chairs filled up. Hagrid taking a seat (in the space of about three chairs) ended the Quidditch conversation as he caught up with them all and updated Draco on the firedrakes ("Gettin' nippy now they're inter adolescence"). Professor McGonagall came as well, greeting Draco as briskly as she ever did while at Hogwarts. Professor Snape kept to himself after taking a seat, and then some older faces arrived. Professor Lupin and Professor Moody sat down on the other side of the twins.

Two more people walked through the kitchen door and Draco took a double-glance. It was Crabbe and Goyle. Whatever face Draco made must have been hilarious because Weasley burst into fresh laughter at it.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" Draco asked them as they stopped behind where Potter and Weasley sat.

"Joined after Christmas." Crabbe shrugged. "Could ask you the same."

Draco's gaze slid back to Potter with narrowed eyes. "If you two have been spying on me, at least you're better at it than Potter."

"Shut up, Malfoy," Potter shot back.

"I sense a story," the nearer twin said.

"Did you never hear about the incident with the invisibility cloak?" Draco asked him.

Potter groaned, his face falling into his hands. "Could you not tell them about that? I think it's equally mortifying for both of us."

Draco considered it a moment before ultimately deciding it was worth the sacrifice. He turned back to the twins. "So anyway, I'm down in the dungeons with my girlfriend after curfew. . ."

It was certainly funnier in hindsight and when they all sat here on equal footing. Even Weasley managed to laugh when the story volleyed back and forth between Draco and Potter as he got over himself, but the twins loved it. They both wore what looked like nearly-painful grins of amusement as a new cup of tea levitated down in front of Draco. A chorus of thanks to Mrs. Weasley followed before she took the last seat at the table. Dumbledore stood, which put a hush through the room.

"Now that we're comfortable, we might as well start," he said. "As you've probably all noticed, we have a few new faces amongst us. . ."