Chapter 9: Orientation

Despite his excitement to finally get going with work, Draco's nerves made themselves known periodically over the weekend. The nerves turned to anxiety come Sunday night, as both he and Dagmar tried to wind down at a reasonable time.

After tossing and turning for the better part of an hour, Draco sighing incited a snort from the other side of the bed.

"I thought you were asleep," Draco whispered.

"Trying, but it's not really panning out."

Draco gravitated over to her, pushing the duvet down to his waist in the process. Dagmar was easy to convince into an embrace. What Draco intended as some snogging ended up with Dagmar's knee hooked in Draco's waist, and a hand between her legs. Hot breath running down Draco's neck and shoulder didn't help that he'd already grown warm from his tossing, but it was a worthy sacrifice to him when Dagmar trembled and sighed. She pulled the air from Draco's lungs in turn with a purposeful touch.

An orgasm helped both of them settle. The dim light of evening had transitioned into its morning mirror when Draco roused again.

Dagmar was up already. The room was humid from the shower having run, and Draco could smell the hair products she used. Dagmar emerged from the closet dressed as far as her blouse, which she buttoned up. Her hair was still up in a towel.

"Morning," she greeted him with a trill of the R as she sat down on Draco's side of the bed. She bent down for a quick kiss. "I was just going to wake you up."

Draco had gotten used to bumming around in bed in the morning. It had certainly been a while since he last saw this hour by choice. He wanted a shower more for the pick-up than to actually get clean. The scent of sausages teased Draco's nostrils while he dressed. Draco's mouth was watering by the time he made it down to the kitchen.

A mug of tea already sat on the island, steam rising from it. Dagmar stood in front of the stove overseeing the sausages, eggs, and mushrooms. She'd also started reheating some of the batch of baked beans they'd made yesterday.

"Can I do anything?" Draco asked before taking a sip of his tea.

"Toast, if you don't mind."

"Could you get the oven going?"

"Mhm."

Draco headed over to the cupboard where they kept their bread. While Draco did his best to cut off some even slices, arms slipped around his middle, and Draco caught a whiff of Dagmar's perfume before her lips touched his neck.

"You look so good today," she told him.

"Thanks." Draco ran a hand over her forearms. "You too."

Dagmar had put her hair into a side-part, and then French-braided it back to where the rest of it created a spiral at the nape of her neck. Mascara and pencil brought out her eyes, although she was more modest with her lipstick. Draco hadn't even thought she was wearing any until she turned conservative toward a snog. She ran her thumb over Draco's bottom lip and around the edges of her mouth afterward.

"I hope I'm dressed appropriately," Draco said as he kept on slicing bread after Dagmar returned to the stove. "It's a reserve, not an office. I don't know if I'm expected to hike around or anything."

"Were you planning on wearing sensible shoes?" Dagmar asked. "It might not hurt to dress more for outside."

Draco wanted to make a good first impression, and years of upper-class politesse had it drilled into him that that meant semi-formal attire and a neat appearance. He was having some doubts now. Dagmar told him to go back upstairs and reevaluate his side of the closet if he wanted to, and she would let him know when breakfast was ready.

Tea in hand, Draco returned to their room. He had plenty of clothes for more formal settings and a solid slew of items for around the house, but not a whole lot in-between. Draco settled for a long-sleeve shirt and vest, remembering nearly a year ago to the day when he and Dagmar went up to Jotunheimen for a visit. The reserve wasn't exactly warm, being up in the mountains.

Draco's hair mussed up in the process of changing. He decided he didn't care, for he didn't want to look too much like a newcomer amongst everyone else. Dagmar didn't seem to mind either, since she ran her fingers through it when he came back downstairs.

They were running a little short for time, so Draco ate fast. He didn't get to finish his tea. His nerves swelled again as he and Dagmar stepped into their shoes and headed for the fireplace. They met up again in the travel room at Den Sultne Jotunn.

Dagmar squeezed Draco's hand. "Well, good luck."

"You too." Draco kissed her. "See you later."

He stepped back into the fireplace, and was on his way northeast to Jotunheimen. Draco stepped out when he saw the familiar cabin that he and Dagmar had visited last July. It wasn't as busy as it had been back then. Tours didn't start yet for another couple hours, according to the sign.

A middle-aged woman with brown hair pulled back into a ponytail hailed him with a wave over by the picture windows. "You must be one of the new apprentices?"

Draco nodded. "Draco Malfoy."

"Ah." The woman extended a hand when they came face-to-face, eyes alight. "Our new British prodigy."

Draco felt heat rise in his cheeks, but he didn't have a chance to acknowledge that before the woman carried on: "Gunvor Vignes, you can just call me Gunvor. I'm the warden here."

"Right." Draco recognized the name from the various letters he'd received. "Good to finally meet you."

"You're the first to arrive," Gunvor told him needlessly. "There should be four more yet."

Before Draco could worry about how to fill the empty air between them, the fireplace lit up green and someone else stepped out. He was tall and lanky, clearly Scandinavian by Draco's reckoning. Gunvor greeted him as well. Draco caught the name Alexander. Alexander gravitated over to Draco when Gunvor mentioned his prior arrival.

"Alex," he told Draco as they shook hands. "Where are you from? You didn't go to Kapsferd."

"Britain," Draco replied. "I went to Hogwarts."

Alex lit up, spine straightening. "So you must have known Harry Potter, then."

Draco's smile grew strained with humour. "I do."

"Friend of yours?"

"We were classmates, but in different houses. I played against him in Quidditch, mostly."

"Oh, what position?" Alex's smile grew more yet. "I played too. Keeper."

"Seeker." Remembering to try for modesty, Draco tucked away his urge to mention his position as Captain, as well as how good Slytherin had played in its last season under his leadership. "Where are you from?"

"Copenhagen. Denmark," Alex added as elaboration. "I just moved to Bergen last week. It's a bit different here, isn't it?"

"I guess, yeah." Draco shrugged, unsure what else to say. "It's different from Denmark?"

"Well, probably not as much of a change as you're going through right now. I moved here with my sister. You?"

"My girlfriend is Norwegian, although she grew up in Britain as well."

"I might know some of her family. What's her surname?"

Draco hesitated to answer, but was spared by it anyway as another newcomer joined them. That she was blonde and had blue eyes made Draco assume she also attended Kapsferd, but she had an accent somewhat like Luca's and introduced herself as Masha Petrova. She wasn't very sure about her Norwegian, which made Draco think she may have started learning it later than he did. After her came another girl. This one knew Alex from Kapsferd and was named Hanna. The last one was an American boy, Leo. He was on about the same level as Masha language-wise, but much more confident about it.

"Right, well, this is all of you," Gunvor told them. "If you'll come with me, I'll show you to the back."

She led them past the Staff Only Beyond this Point sign. Draco had heard a murmur coming from back here, but didn't connect it with the other dragonologists on-site. He figured that, like last year, they would've been out and about. A small group of them sat at a table with coffees in hand. They all went quiet when Gunvor led Draco and the others through, sizing them up. None of them said anything.

Draco carried through with the other apprentices to Gunvor's office, which had a view of the hill where Hyperion had slept during Draco's tour last July. He searched the landscape for the dragon, but Hyperion had evidently found somewhere else to snooze this morning. Since it was raining, maybe he'd just taken cover.

"I have some paperwork to start you all off with," Gunvor told them, handing them each a small stack of parchment. "I don't need it until the third, but we'll go over it now, just to spare you any potential confusion."

Draco read along with everyone else as they went through the basic information, tax forms, and various disclaimers. Draco glanced at his coworkers to see what they thought about the warning that their positions put them at high risk of severe injury and potential death. The reserve would do everything in its power to ensure they were prepared to carry out the full extent of their job responsibilities, but they carried no liability as an entity. Draco locked eyes with Alex, who had developed a wrinkle across his forehead. Masha's hands shook slightly. Hanna scratched her face with the back of her thumbnail. Leo shifted his weight from one hip to the other.

"It'll be a while until you actually come into contact with the dragons on your own," Gunvor reassured them all with a warm smile. "You'll also each be assigned a mentor from amongst our seasoned dragonologists. You'll tag along with them during their regular shifts for the next year. Let's go back out to the staff room, and I'll get you all properly acquainted."

The same group from earlier was still there. Their conversation came to another halt as Gunvor approached. There were three men and two women.

"Lars, Draco is all yours," Gunvor started them off with.

Draco scanned the small group to try and figure out which one was Lars. The biggest one of them, a tall and barrel-chested blond with a tattoo of what looked like a raven on his temple, sat up straighter. Draco wasn't completely sure about the wolfish nod and grin he got from him. His nerves resurfaced.

The other four apprentices were paired up with theirs. As Lars came up to Draco, Draco's neck bent backwards to maintain eye contact. His hand felt like a child's in Lars' as they shook, and all of Draco's arm moved with the force of it.

"Call me Lars if you want, but only Gunvor really does," Lars told him. "Everyone else calls me Big Swede."

"Oh, really?" Draco replied. "Why?"

His deadpan response lit Lars—Big Swede—up in a laugh that almost startled Draco. It sounded like a hyena. Although it similarly jarred the other newcomers, none of the dragonologists spared hardly a glance.

"Funny kid," Big Swede said. "I'm gonna like you. Come on, I'll show you around."

Draco fell in step beside him. Big Swede was at least six and a half feet tall, given that Draco was only about eye level with his shoulders.

"First things first." Big Swede led Draco into the adjacent room. "Lockers are here. Your name will be on one. Your gear should be in it, but you won't need it today."

"Gear like what?" Draco asked as he searched for his name.

"Your armour, basically." Big Swede pat his chest. Because he wore a cloak over it, Draco hadn't noticed the worn, dark brown leather underneath. "Consider yourself lucky. You five got the first cuts of skin off Hyperion."

"Hyperion?" Draco stopped and looked back at him. "He died?"

"Knew him, did you?" Big Swede's easy grin grew strained. "Ja, pretty sad to see a dragon like that one go. Died in his sleep back in April."

"That's too bad."

"Circle of life and all that. Still, he was definitely my favourite. Been here since I started, of course." Big Swede chuckled. "Only dragon I didn't think might roast me if I turned my back at the wrong second. He'd gone on so long in human company with no negative experiences he was essentially tame. He just didn't give a shit."

"That was the impression I got." Draco kept on looking for his name. "I saw him a year ago when I came up here for a tour. He was a lot different than the dragons they brought to Hogwarts for the Triwizard Tournament back in my fourth year. Er—autumn of '94."

"I remember that. Cǎlimani asked for some extra hands so that their dragonologists back in Romania wouldn't be left strapped for lack of help. Lots of fun, that was."

"You were there?"

"Knew there was a point to learning English." Big Swede laughed again. "Found me a kindred spirit in that gamekeeper of yours. Big fella, what was his name now. . ."

"That'd be Hagrid." Draco found his locker. Inside was a set of armour similar to Big Swede's, although it looked stiff and new. Draco pulled out the breast piece just to get a closer look.

"You can put it on if you like. Try it out," Big Swede told him. "It should fit over your regular clothes, although you might have to ditch the vest."

"'Kay."

"Hagrid, I liked him." A fond smile warmed Big Swede's small, blue eyes. "Drank me under the table, and that's saying something."

Draco laughed. "He taught Care of Magical Creatures. Managed to bring in a slew of firedrakes last year, although I suppose you know that already since they're coming here. That's what Hagrid said. Have they made it yet?"

"Nej." Big Swede grinned. "That's gonna be your first job here. We'll all be flying to Hogwarts to pick them up, first week of August."

"Cool."

"What do you fly?"

"A Firebolt."

"Good." Big Swede nodded. "So long as everyone does, it shouldn't take us more than a couple days. The return trip is what's going to be interesting. Don't much think the firedrakes would care to be dropped into the North Sea, and recovering them might be a bitch if we do."

Big Swede said that so casually that Draco wasn't completely sure how to respond other than agree. He focused instead on donning his armour. It wasn't really too much different than his old Quidditch stuff. Draco doubted leather would spare him a singe, but at least if a dragon took a swipe at him, he might not be disemboweled.

"Fits all right?" Big Swede asked when Draco was done. "It should all be adjustable. Might just have to play with it."

"I think it's good."

Dagmar stepped out of the fireplace into Olaf Kyrre Memorial Hospital's foyer. A long fountain ran down its centre. The gentle sound of trickling water helped somewhat to ease Dagmar's anxiety.

She approached reception. "Good morning, I'm here for the Healer apprenticeship."

The woman working there pointed toward a small group that looked about Dagmar's age. "That's them over there. Arne, the redhead, is your dean."

Dagmar thanked her and headed over to where Arne stood with four others. They all looked Scandinavian. One of the two men amongst them noticed Dagmar first, and studied her as she approached. Arne himself was the first one to extend his hand.

"You must be Dagmar," he greeted her.

Dagmar suppressed a cringe out of habit when he pronounced her name as it was spelled. She corrected him, "Dow-mar, actually."

"Oh, sorry!" He lightly laughed. "Usually that's the Danish pronunciation."

"Ja." Dagmar smiled. "My mum and dad must have preferred it."

"Indeed." Arne turned so that the other four apprentice healers could be included in the conversation. "Let me introduce you. Leif, Åke, Frida, and Tora."

"Charmed," Dagmar said as she shook all their hands in turn.

Dagmar had looked forward to a more international group, so that she wouldn't be the only real newcomer. After sitting mostly on the outside amongst her peers at Hogwarts, Dagmar couldn't say she was excited about having to work her way in all over again.

For now, Dagmar wasn't too worried about it. Just because Leif, Åke, Frida, and Tora were all acquainted didn't mean it put them ahead of Dagmar as far as the hospital went. They seemed equally fresh during the tour, and maybe even a little curious as to why Dagmar got a small wave in acknowledgement when they passed by Ingrid. She was in conversation with another Healer in a corridor.

Their tour ended in Arne's office. Dagmar's gaze stuck out the window, for she could actually see where her and Draco's cottage would be from there. The hospital was across the bay and slightly further north, nestled in the woods on Florvågøyna.

"Now, I'm sure you were all ecstatic to be finished your studies at Kapsferd—or Hogwarts," Arne said with a nod at Dagmar, "but you still have two more years of schooling with us before you'll have earned your Healer certificates. The way the program is structured is that you have your theory lessons in the morning, and then practical work in the afternoons. That won't amount to much more than just tagging along with your preceptors for now and observing what they do. You'll gradually become more involved with your patients.

"I have some paperwork for you all to complete." Arne picked up a handful of stacks of parchment. "Some I ask to be sent to me by Monday—that's marked separately—but the tax and personal information ones can wait until the third to be turned in. There is also a book list here for what you'll need for the program."

Dagmar accepted her package and started flipping through. She stopped when Arne led them on again out of his office. Ingrid was there along with four other Healers. Her grin was contagious, although Dagmar suppressed hers slightly. If these were their preceptors, she put two-and-two quickly together.

Sure enough, Ingrid came over to Dagmar when Arne started pairing them up. She pulled Dagmar into a brief hug. "Herregud, I was dying to tell you, but I didn't want to spoil the surprise. I didn't think they'd let me have you since we know each other, but everyone usually ends up friendly with their preceptors anyway."

"I bet."

"Of course, I had an ulterior motive." Ingrid winked in jest. "One year of guaranteed day shift. Brilliant."

Dagmar laughed and then cut it short. "Oof, I'm not sure I'm looking forward to nights."

"They have their perks." Ingrid shrugged. "It's when the schedule changes you're left a little messed up. You won't be doing nights anyway until you get your certificate, unless you volunteer for them."

Their preceptors didn't get to stick around for long because they had work to get back to. Dagmar wouldn't have minded starting her tag-along relationship with Ingrid right away, but Arne had arranged for the five trainees to have lunch together so that they could get better acquainted. They all sat down at a table in the cafeteria. Dagmar had heard all the jokes about hospital food, but hers didn't look bad at all. The salad seemed fresh, and the salmon moist.

"So you went to Hogwarts, Arne mentioned?" Frida pulled her hair back into a ponytail. "What was that like? Dumbledore is pretty well-known."

"I liked it there," Dagmar replied. "Dumbledore was a very good headmaster."

Åke leaned in. "You must have known Harry Potter too, right?"

"I did," Dagmar confirmed. "He was all right."

"You were friends?"

Dagmar hummed. "Well, I wouldn't go that far. Acquaintances. We sort of still are."

While the four of them sized her up anew, Dagmar did so them in turn.

"I'll be forthcoming," she said. "I think it was in the news here back in spring about that Norwegian pair of Death Eaters in Britain. Those were my parents. My dad died, and my mum went to prison. I don't agree with anything they did, even if it seems like Voldemort was either blackmailing or forcing them into service. Potter got on as an Auror back in London, and he's investigating something related to what they were all working on together. My boyfriend and I are helping him however we can."

Leif blinked. "So you're a Ramstad."

Dagmar nodded.

"I knew your cousin at Kapsferd," he replied. "Påske. We shared a dorm. That was hard for him. Lots of cold shoulders after that, even if he said he hadn't seen his uncle Erik in like a decade. Hardly even remembered him."

"Ja." Dagmar's stomach curdled with guilt. "There are a lot of students at Hogwarts that are missing family because of Voldemort. I'm lucky nobody ever really spoke to me after it all came out, but I could feel their resentment. Not that I can really compare my suffering to theirs."

"What was it like having Death Eaters for parents?" Tora asked, brown eyes wide with mingled curiosity and alarm. "Did you ever—you know—see him?"

Voldemort's white, skull-like face appeared in Dagmar's mind.

"Nei," Dagmar lied. "My parents did their best to make sure I didn't fall into that. I came of-age last summer and cut as much contact as I could get away with. My boyfriend and I planned to move up here anyway to get away from it all, since his father was involved as well. It's good to be home."

Dagmar didn't expect that sentiment to turn her eyes heavy, but thankfully there were no tears there. Even if there were, the other four smiled at her, and Dagmar was relieved her honesty hadn't been met with disdain.

The conversation carried away from that. Dagmar had lots of questions about what Kapsferd was like, and Leif, Åke, Frida, and Tora had seven years worth of stories to share. They were interested about her experience at Hogwarts, particularly as a classmate of Harry Potter's, but Dagmar didn't personally have much to share in that regard. The events she could speak mostly to were the Chamber of Secrets being opened, the dementors being around, the Triwizard Tournament, and the horrendous experience of trying to learn Defence Against the Dark Arts under Professor Umbridge.

"I heard afterward that Potter had some kind of secret Defence class." Dagmar pursed her lips briefly. "Pity I wasn't invited, but Umbridge was using members of my house to keep an eye on the other students. I suppose they didn't want to risk involving a Slytherin."

"The house system sounds kind of fun," Tora said. "I think I would've liked it better than how we all ended up splitting off at Kapsferd. For at least the primary years, all the Danes, Swedes, and Norwegians kind of keep to themselves because of the language divide. Once all that starts melting together, it's different. I started noticing the change in secondary years. By tertiary, it's a non-issue."

"So where are you all from originally?" Dagmar asked.

"Stavanger for me," Tora replied.

"Stockholm," Åke said.

"Malmö." When Leif said that, the last syllable sounded like a potato stuck in his throat.

"Copenhagen," Frida said. "My twin Alex and I got a flat here together. We'll see how long until we're tired of each other."

They all laughed. By the time lunch wrapped up, Dagmar was feeling really good about their little group. The four of them had been standoffish to start, and it wasn't until they all bid their goodbyes that Dagmar remembered that social trait was a product of her own culture.

Dagmar hoped Draco was doing all right with that. She made it home hoping to ask, but the cottage was still quiet and empty when she apparated across the bay. The fireplace had turned the cottage cozy in her absence. Dagmar went upstairs to change into more comfortable clothes before making a place for herself on the love seat. She grabbed the throw Draco had left on the couch from a kip the previous afternoon.

As soon as Dagmar settled, she spotted movement out the corner of her eye. Heimdall stood at the kitchen door, yellow eyes wide in urgency as he stared at her. The glass muffled his meow. Dagmar got up to let him in. She got comfortable again with Arne's papers while Heimdall gravitated to the rug in front of the fireplace to warm up and dry off.

Had Dagmar not just stood up, she would've done so again to fetch some ink and a quill from the office. For now, she was content just to read through. Dagmar's brow furrowed as she went over the first sheet. It shouldn't be so quickly that she ran into issues with it. At the top of the page was a request toward complete truthfulness and accuracy. What was Dagmar supposed to put for Place of Birth? Her lips pulled toward a bunch on one side as Dagmar kept looking at the questions. Another one that caused her pause was Spoken/Known Languages. Was it relevant to tell the hospital that she was a Parselmouth? Maybe they only wanted to know so that patients who spoke languages other than Norwegian could receive care from someone with a common tongue. Or, considering that Parseltongue bore a weighty taboo, it might raise a couple eyebrows.

Deciding not to think about that at the moment, Dagmar carried on. The tax forms and repeated request for qualifying grades from her education were unremarkable, but Dagmar's stomach knotted again as she came to the section Arne had requested be returned to him Monday:

Fitness to Practice Module
Standards for healthcare provided by hospitals within the magical community of Norway are set and perpetuated by the Department of Magical Welfare. Patients must be able to trust Healers with their lives and health.

The standards of a Healer are as follows:
- the care of patients is top priority;
- the general health of patients and the public at large is protected and promoted;
- provide a high standard of practice and care by keeping knowledge up to date, recognizing and working within the limits of your competence, and cooperating with colleagues for the benefit of patients;
- treat patients as individuals;
- respect patients' dignity and confidentiality;
- work in partnership with patients by listening to and addressing their concerns, keeping them informed on the status of their health in ways they understand, and respecting their right to make decisions in their treatment and care;
- and act with integrity and honesty by not discriminating against patients or colleagues, acting without delay if you believe a colleague may be putting a patient at risk, and not abusing the patient's trust in you or the public's trust in the profession.

You are personally accountable for your professional practice and must always be prepared to justify your decisions and actions. The scope of your responsibilities in relation to human life imply a higher standard of expectations prior to your admittance to Healer apprenticeship. Through this module, you will be given the opportunity to disclose all previous behaviours that may present a risk to clear decision-making in the future.

Areas of concern are as follows. . .

Dagmar had already declared her run-in at the French Ministry when she first applied. As she read through the list of unacceptable conduct, Dagmar's gaze stuck on aggressive behaviour. The first two examples were assault and physical violence.

Her stomach sunk. Dagmar had been honest with Olaf Kyrre up as far as submitting her application in December, but things had changed since then. She hadn't ever told anybody about what happened with Pansy after Heimdall briefly vanished, not even Draco. In fact, she'd forgotten all about it after her father died. Between that, the NEWTs coming fast and hard, and concern that Dagmar and Draco get on with Olaf Kyrre and Jotunheimen, Dagmar hadn't been able to think about much else at all.

Low-level panic compelled Dagmar to close up the Fitness to Practice section of her package and find something else to do that might take her mind off it. She'd wanted over the weekend to try her hand at baking bread. Having to focus on learning something new helped a little bit, although Dagmar still found space to think while she kneaded the dough and then waited for it to rise. She was sitting at the kitchen island reading the Bergen Seer newspaper with a cup of coffee when the fireplace whooshed.

Dagmar stood to see around the wall, then smiled despite her lingering anxiety. "Hey, you."

"Hey." Draco kicked off his shoes and came into the kitchen. With an arm around Dagmar's shoulders, he pressed a kiss to her temple. "How'd it go?"

"It was good." Dagmar could answer that honestly for now, since her concern hadn't arisen until after she came home. "There's five of us in the program. Guess what I'm going right back to?"

"Er. . ." Draco stalled as he opened the ice box.

"School," Dagmar said. "I have classes to sit in the morning, and then I get to tag along with Ingrid for the afternoons."

"That should be all right then, yeah?" Draco started bringing out fixings for a sandwich. "It's not like going to lessons will be an adjustment. Approximately how many hundreds of feet do you think we wrote last year in essays?"

"Anywhere between two to four hundred." Dagmar's smile softened, endeared by Draco's good mood. "What was your day like?"

"No mention of lessons, so there's that," Draco said. "Big Swede told me today to bail if a dragon looks like it's gearing up to breathe fire, so I probably got the essentials down."

Dagmar laughed. "Who or what is Big Swede?"

"My mentor." Draco stood up straight and held his hand flat as high up as he could reach. "About this tall, tattoos everywhere."

"Sounds almost intimidating."

"Nah, think more like Hagrid. They know each other, hey? Oh." Draco's eyes lit up. "Guess where I'm going in a few weeks?"

"Hogwarts."

Draco deflated from the speed of her correct guess.

"You mentioned Hagrid." Dagmar apologized for stealing his news with a shrug. "First thing that came to mind. For the firedrakes, or. . .?"

"Yeah, we're going to fly." Draco closed the ice box and pushed his fixings closer to where Dagmar sat. "It's going to be tricky. There're eleven of us going, three each to two cages, and two for the last one. I'm going to meet up with Alex, Leo, Masha, and Hanna sometime this week or next week to go for a fly, so we can size up where we're all at with that. We all played Quidditch and ride Firebolts, so it'll be more a matter of coordination rather than skill."

Since Draco had both hands in use while he sliced more bread for himself, Dagmar held off on reaching out. Instead, she held her jaw in hand and leaned on the island top as she admired him.

"They all live down in the city, so I thought maybe we could set off from here." Draco carried on. "Would that be all right with you?"

"I don't mind at all."

"'Kay."

As Draco went on about what he'd seen and done today, Dagmar internally questioned if she dared ruin his good mood with everything that was on her mind. It had to be addressed, and she didn't want to put it off any longer since it might already seem as if she'd hidden it from him.

Draco suggested they move from the kitchen to the living room to sit next to the fire. The rain had ramped up outside along with the wind, pushing it against the windows in spatters. Dagmar ended up igniting a couple torches to go along with the fire's light. When Draco made to sit, he took a long gaze at the pile of parchment Dagmar left on the coffee table from earlier.

"Yours is thicker than mine," he commented. "Did they already give you an assignment or something? Or just some reading?"

"Bit of both in a way." Dagmar pulled the throw over her legs before setting her plate on her lap. "I actually needed to talk to you about some stuff in it."

"Like what?"

"Well, there's some minor things that I'm not quite sure how to answer," Dagmar started, "like the personal information bits. It asks where I was born, but I'm not sure what to put if I don't know—"

"Just that?" Draco suggested with a shrug. "If you're honest, you don't. You could always talk to your program leader or whatever about it later. Tell them you're working on it. Would it be a big deal, do you think?"

"Nei, but it's a minor concern." Dagmar tried to move them along. "Most of this is basically like an evaluation to figure out how fit I am to be a Healer. They want us to declare anything we've ever done in the past that might compromise our ability to provide care. You know, bad judgements and all that—"

"You already told them about what happened in Nice, though."

Annoyance twinged in Dagmar's stomach as her smile turned wooden. "Can I speak?"

"Er, yeah, go ahead. Sorry."

Draco filled his mouth with food, turning Dagmar's fleeting irritation back into endearment. She reached over to squeeze his thigh. "I appreciate the enthusiasm. I just need you to listen to me for a minute. Something happened in February that I honestly completely forgot about after everything with our parents happened. Nothing ever came of it, so it felt kind of inconsequential. . .until now."

Brow furrowed, Draco swallowed. "What did you do?"

That he sounded nervous incited the same feeling in Dagmar. Out of everyone in the world, she believed Draco would understand best. It still scared her that, on top of everything else she'd told him, it might start pushing into territory where the sum of it all was too much.

"I found out who put Heimr in that cabinet," Dagmar said. "It was Pansy."

Draco stared at Dagmar before his gaze shifted over to where Heimdall laid curled up in front of the fireplace. What remained of Draco's earlier excitement bled away.

"What did you do to her?" Draco altered his previous question.

"Well, I'll just tell you the whole story because it all happened over the course of a couple months." Dagmar forced the tension out of her shoulders. "The first weekend after Christmas holidays ended, Heimr was well enough for me to keep him overnight in the dorm. Hagrid just told me to feed him right before bed and when I woke up, and then bring him down to his cabin the next morning to get checked on. Me, Daphne, and Milly were bumming around, and then Pansy came in. We all kind of had a fight—I think she was trying to make nice. . ." Dagmar paused to think, eyes narrowed. "It doesn't matter, anyway. We all went to bed, and I'd noticed that Heimr burrowed under my blanket when Pansy came in. I tried to convince him out, and he was shaking, absolutely terrified."

Draco sat up straighter, blinking rapidly a few times. Dagmar had only paused to gather her thoughts and make sure her memory was straight, but his reaction caused her further hesitation.

"Can I just say something?" Draco asked, to which Dagmar nodded. "I had some suspicions the night he was found that something might be up. I had no idea how Heimr could've gotten in that cabinet by himself. I just wrote it all off because I was happy he was back. I also didn't want to upset you with the idea someone put him in there. I didn't say anything."

"Did you suspect her?"

Draco shook his head. "I didn't suspect anybody. I didn't know who would do that, or why."

"Sitting here now, I'm remembering the conversations we had last summer about what Pansy might do to me when she found out we were together." Dagmar's heart squeezed as she watched Heimdall's body rise and fall with his sleep. "I wish it was me she did it to, now."

"Do you remember back in fifth year, Montague disappeared for a while?" Draco asked.

Dagmar nodded.

"The Weasley twins had shoved him into that cabinet. He just about died," Draco replied. "The only way he could escape was to apparate. Whatever gets put in that cabinet just vanishes. I wonder if Pansy knew what might happen."

"She didn't," Dagmar said. "She said she went back to let him out. But—hold on, that happened later. Let me backtrack."

"Right." Draco pulled off a shred of ham poking out the side of his sandwich and set it on his plate.

"I didn't want to confront Pansy," Dagmar kept on with her story. "I had nothing to go on except for how Heimr acted and then being worried before that she might do something. I didn't think there was a point in going to Snape about it. I'd talked to him here and there over the years about how me and Pansy got along, and it never amounted to anything. I took it into my own hands. Do you remember that troll head in a jar you bought me on my birthday?"

"Mhm."

"It was being kept small like that in a deactivated Shrinking Potion," Dagmar said. "I figured that if I put some of it into my Alltid-Varmt container, it would reactivate. It took a couple weeks, but it worked. Once it was ready, I poured it over her when she was sleeping. It wasn't very strong, just gave her some headaches for a few weeks. It was more potent than I expected, though, and I crossed paths with her in the dorm one night when she was laying in bed not feeling well. I felt bad, so I gave her some antidote. Said it was just a headache cure that I knew, and she was desperate to try anything at that point.

"I sat with her for a minute afterward." Dagmar scratched the side of her neck. "She got really upset. She didn't think she deserved my help, because she thought the headaches came from a heavy conscience. She told me what she did. She said she felt bad later and went back, but Heimr was gone. She thought someone else let him out."

"You didn't think it was worth going to Snape then?" Draco asked. "That would've. . .she could've really had it bad for that. Hurting another student's animal, especially with how she already treated you since first year?"

"I chose to handle it instead." Growing uncomfortable again, Dagmar idly pinched pieces of bread off her sandwich. "After she told me, I used the Heafonfýr Curse on her. Not like I did in Nice on that Muggle—differently. I don't really know how to explain it. I touched her and pushed all that into her. She couldn't move or breathe."

Draco stayed quiet.

"Obviously I didn't let it go any further than that," Dagmar broke the pregnant silence between them. "I pulled it all back. She wasn't hurt, just rattled. I told her she was best to leave me alone and not let us reach that point again. She listened, so. . ."

Dagmar shrugged and chanced a glance at Draco to see what he might be thinking. He wasn't looking at her, but Heimdall. The corners of Draco's mouth were slightly pulled down. He put his plate and unfinished sandwich on the coffee table and headed over to the rug. Heimdall made a discontented sound in his throat when Draco picked him up. Although he wasn't happy with it, Heimdall tolerated Draco cradling him. Draco returned to the couch.

"Well, I can't say I blame you," Draco said. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't tell anyone," Dagmar replied. "It was between me and her. I guess I wanted it to be her word against mine, if she told anyone about it. If you didn't know anything about it, you couldn't get involved. Then. . .well, like I said, I forgot all about it after everything with our parents. Pansy kept it to herself too, as far as I can tell. Nothing ever came of it. I felt like she understood it was what seven years of torment had led to. She felt guilty about Heimr, so maybe she figured she deserved it."

"Maybe, yeah."

Heimdall struggled a little, although settled when Draco fed him the piece of ham from his plate. Since Draco didn't seem perturbed by Dagmar's actions, or angry that she'd kept it from him however unintentionally, Dagmar moved over to his side of the couch and leaned against his side. She scratched Heimdall's head.

"All that said. . ." Draco spoke. "Do you really think you have to tell the hospital? Nothing ever came of it. Nobody but you, me, and Pansy know."

"For how long, though?" Dagmar asked. "How long until Pansy thinks about it again and realizes that this is something that could have my Healer license taken away? Even if she can't prove it. . .I don't know, I just feel like I should do the right thing. I told everyone in my program over lunch who my parents were and all that, and they seemed to appreciate that I was forthcoming."

"This is a bit different," Draco said. "Do you really want to risk your entire career on a maybe? I know you well enough to look at the situation and think yeah, that was honestly probably an appropriate response. Like you said, though, the hospital is putting you in charge of people's care. They might look at it differently."

"I don't know." Dagmar sighed. "I would kind of rather know now if I'm not the right fit than have that lingering over my head for the rest of my life. I don't want Pansy to have that kind of power."

"Could it disqualify you? What do your papers say?"

Dagmar grabbed the parchment package along with her sandwich. Heimdall eyed the latter. Dagmar mindlessly pulled away some ham for him, which he ate greedily on Draco's lap.

After the Areas of Concern list Dagmar had read earlier, there was a full page dedicated to how the hospital would handle any concerns. The hospital wouldn't immediately cut her out of the program, but it did warn that egregious behaviour or judgement would warrant an investigation. Dagmar grew nervous again, even though she believed coming clean was the right thing to do.

Rather than begin to fill out her form, Dagmar elected to write Arne:

Arne,

Thank you again for the tour of the hospital today. It was a pleasure to finally meet you and the other program entrants.

I'm looking over the forms you sent me home with, and I have some questions/concerns. Would it be possible to meet and discuss them? My schedule is wide open, so we could do so whenever it's convenient for you.

Thank you,
Dagmar

"I hope it's not bothering him," Dagmar said when Draco found her tying it to Teeko's leg in the owlery. "I don't want to be that student, you know, the one that needs special requirements and extra help and stuff."

"Or he might think you're being proactive." Draco leaned against the office door frame, arms folded. "Once you get going with the program, you won't need any help at all. You're brilliant, and you don't need anyone to motivate you. You're raising concerns just like they asked you to."

"Ja." Dagmar relaxed a little bit.

"The thing with Pansy aside," Draco said, "are you going to tell him other things?"

Dagmar ushered Teeko out the window. "Like what?"

"He probably already knows your parents are Death Eaters," Draco replied. "What about Grim? Or meeting You-Know-Who in that graveyard?"

"I might as well, I guess." Dagmar approached where he stood. "The forms also ask for known languages. I considered putting down Parseltongue."

Draco ran a hand down Dagmar's arm as her nerves turned her quiet again.

"I just don't know that it's all adding up to something good," Dagmar said. "Daughter of two Death Eaters, one that's dead and the other one is in Azkaban. Parselmouth. Attacked a Muggle. Attacked a classmate. Killed a cat. It sounds horrible, laid out like that."

"There's nuance."

"Maybe." Dagmar pressed her lips briefly. "I guess they can't hold against me who my parents were, if I don't share their beliefs. Everything but being a Parselmouth can be explained."

"Well, even that doesn't have to be inherently bad."

Dagmar invited herself into Draco's arms. While she felt uncertain about her future at the hospital, Dagmar wasn't as upset as she expected to be.

"Do you remember back shortly after everything happened with our parents, we were talking up in the owlery?" Dagmar asked. "I think we were sending letters to Mrs. Keene and Mr. Clayton."

"Erm. . ."

"I told you I could give up anything for a while, but that I could never give up you." Dagmar pulled away enough to meet his gaze. "I won't lie, I'll be devastated if Arne decides he wants me as far away from his hospital as possible. I don't feel like it'd be the end of the world though, so long as you don't think the same."

Draco smiled. "Nah."

Dagmar's heart picked up as she pressed Draco back against the wall with the weight of her body. She kissed him as tenderly as she knew how, enamoured all over again and very aware today just how lucky she was to have such a supportive and understanding partner.

"I love you," Draco told Dagmar, making her stomach flutter anew. "All of you."

Dagmar ran her thumb over his jaw. "Herregud, you're going to make a good husband."

Pink patches appeared on Draco's cheeks, pulling with them a flattered grin. He held Dagmar against him, and Dagmar could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage.

"It's time to start thinking like that," Draco said after a moment. "Not that it's necessarily a new thing."

"I know." Dagmar understood what he was trying to say.

"Can I ask you something, though?"

"Of course."

"Sort of going off what you told me today about Pansy. . ." Draco glanced away briefly. "I'm not mad you hid it from me. I get it. We had a lot going on, too. I'm giving the benefit of the doubt on that because I trust you. That said, is there anything else like that? Anything you haven't told me?"

Dagmar hummed. "Nothing comes to mind at the moment, but I'll think about it. If there is, it won't be anything heavy like that. It'll be silly things like—oh, here's something I told Blaise when he came out to me, that I don't think I ever mentioned. Blaise said part of the reason he never told me he was gay was because he thought I was too, and that it was just generally irrelevant. Now obviously I'm not, but I did have one of those stupid kid crushes on a girl once. Ingrid."

Draco snorted.

"I don't know what it was, really, if I just thought she was cool and I wanted to be like her, or. . ." Dagmar trailed off with a realization. "Well, I guess we are working together now, living in the same city, you and I are living in her old house. . ."

Draco laughed. "To be fair too, you were quite excited at the prospect of shagging me when we tested the Polyjuice."

"I'm always excited about shagging you." Dagmar nudged Draco back into the cottage. "I don't know, doing that didn't really feel anymore preferential over anything we normally do. All that mattered to me was that it was with you."

Draco followed Dagmar back toward the kitchen. "So it wouldn't matter if I was a woman, basically?"

"I guess?" Dagmar checked her bread dough, seeing as it had risen enough already to start pushing up against the towel she'd laid over the bowl. "I had fun trying out being with a woman when the opportunity presented itself, but it wasn't like it caused a huge shift or big realization for my life or anything."

"I felt pretty malleable in the situation too," Draco admitted as he took a seat at the island. "I definitely did not think going in I'd want to suck a willy. It was different, when it was you."

"It all made for a good story." Dagmar consulted the bread recipe she'd followed to see about how hot to set the oven. "Do you want rolls or loaves?"