Chapter 8: In the Shadows

An owl from Dumbledore waited for Harry down in the parlour when he woke up the next morning. Dumbledore would be at Ramstad Manor until evening. Harry could drop in and see about when he would fit into his meeting schedule.

Harry went right away. There were other Order members there in the great room and keeping room, one of which was Hagrid. Harry gravitated over to him, relieved that Hagrid's smile remained as warm as usual.

"Dumbledore asked yeh too, eh?" Hagrid greeted him with. "Seemed an obvious choice, really. Glad yer doin' it."

"Yeah." Harry slipped his hands into his pockets. "It's literally the least I could do."

"Fer now." Hagrid sighed, his beard shifting as his mouth worked. "It's all any of us can do. The real struggle will be when he gets out. Tha's gonna be rough fer him."

Harry nodded. He was trying to focus on one thing at a time. It had been certainly interesting the night before to start going through seven years of knowing Malfoy. Since his and Malfoy's personal history had stayed relevant in the present, it wasn't all too far away from the forefront of Harry's mind. He'd thought about Hagrid when he considered everything that happened with Buckbeak.

The drawing room door opened, and Dumbledore emerged with a woman Harry had never seen before. His brow furrowed briefly until he realized that she and Dumbledore spoke Norwegian with each other. As they neared the great room's fireplace, Harry put his back to her. He didn't want to be recognized by who he suspected to be Dagmar's aunt.

"Harry," Dumbledore addressed him when the woman had left. "Come in for a moment. Let's see what time I should have you come back."

Harry bid Hagrid goodbye before following Dumbledore into the drawing room. He lifted his nose to better read as Dumbledore looked over a piece of parchment he'd dashed a bunch of times and names on. "Oh, that was Janne Dyrdahl?"

"Mhm," Dumbledore confirmed. "She can say without a doubt that as of July eighteenth last summer, Draco had no intentions on joining the Death Eaters. He also had no sympathies for Voldemort's ideology."

"Right." Harry had forgotten about her use of Veritaserum on Malfoy and Dagmar.

"How does two o'clock work for you?"

Harry agreed to it before flooing back to Grimmauld Place. He headed upstairs to have a shower and get ready for the day, not that he had much else to do but spend the next four hours dwelling on a past he'd thought safe to leave behind. Harry had started on that again in the shower, which made him feel a little strange when he returned to his room. Pansy hadn't moved far from the bed yet that morning. This week's copy of Witch Weekly had shown up.

"We're in here," she told Harry as he opened his pants drawer.

Harry grunted. "You are?"

"Not sure how I feel about it, to be honest." Pansy wore a grimace. "There's a picture of me. I don't like that someone snapped it without me knowing. You lucked out."

Harry sat down next to her so that he could see. It wasn't an embarrassing photo or anything. It must have been taken Thursday while Pansy was waiting for their dinner order, since she was loitering at the kebab place. Harry pursed his lips as he read through the article. That there was so much information explaining an outside view of their relationship gave Harry the impression that this was their first feature as a couple. He figured in hindsight that Pansy would've mentioned one before, given that she was a faithful subscriber to the magazine.

"'Anonymous sources', my arse," Pansy said with a scoff when she took the magazine back. "I'd bet you my last knut it's Parvati and Lavender."

"Think so?"

"Don't know who else would care enough. If I ever go to their shop for tea over my lunch break, they give me the rundown on everything going on in Diagon Alley. If they're talking about everyone else, it's not a stretch of the imagination they're talking about me. They did it last year too. I nearly had it in from Ginny when she confronted me about that rumour I shagged Dean and Seamus at the same time. You know how good Ginny is at hexes. Try her when she's pissed off."

"Mm."

Pansy set the magazine on the bedside table and settled herself on the bed. She studied Harry, eventually resting a hand on his thigh. "All right?"

Harry shrugged, which was about the best way to sum up his mood lately. "Just been thinking about what all Dumbledore asked me to. A few things that came to mind about Malfoy included you too. Like when you and him were talking to Rita Skeeter all through the Triwizard Tournament."

Pansy's expression fell a little. She looked nervous. "Right."

Harry wasn't sure why he even brought it up other than just to say it. He looked at Pansy the same way he looked at Malfoy. The past was the past. When Pansy and Malfoy had grown up and apart, they turned out all right.

"What about it?" Pansy asked hesitantly.

"Nothing, really." Harry paused. "Well, I don't want to get stuck in all that just because I have to think back to everything that ever happened between Malfoy and I. I know things are different now. It's really hard for me to look at you and think you're the same girl that used to laugh along with him. It's like two different people. I wasn't there for your in-between like I was for his. It's just a weird feeling, is all."

"Does it make you think less of me?"

"No." Harry laid down next to her. "Just makes me think more about how people change, I guess."

Pansy studied him, her gaze softening as she ran her fingers through Harry's wet hair. She settled more against him as he made himself comfortable. Harry gravitated closer yet, taking her lips with his once their noses brushed. He felt the tension bleed out of her body. When she melted into him, it was with a leg over his middle.

What was meant to be a light snog ended up far too magnetic for Harry to just pull himself away from. He wasn't aiming for anything in particular, but things tended to end up wherever they were going between the two of them. Pansy's fingers were in Harry's hair again as he pulled down the front of her tank top and deliberately mouthed her closest breast. She sighed in a telltale way.

"Do you have time?" she asked.

"Oh yeah," Harry stopped long enough to say. "Plenty."

That was good, because Harry didn't feel in any particular rush. When he eventually wound up inside of her, Harry could feel the pound of Pansy's heart in multiplicity. Her jugular tapped against Harry's tongue in tandem with the warm, wet flesh that drew him into a cushion. Harry could even hear it in her breath, like a small, rhythmic catch.

They fell back onto their initial snogging to bring them back down in the aftermath. Too much body heat pooled between them for Harry to grab the blanket from the end of the bed. He appreciated the visible press of their bodies. With the proper beginning of winter approaching, their skin had lost any darkening granted by the summer sun. It was more clear to see the difference between her slightly olive complexion compared to Harry's straight pale.

"I love you," he told her.

Pansy's cheeks darkened as delight brought up an extra light in her eyes. "I love you too."

Harry watched the shadows his fingertips made as they traced over her skin. Some small bumps like gooseflesh rose up around it. "I'm still kind of worried how all of this is going to change me."

"Obviously you're a little different," Pansy replied. "Distant, but it's not like I don't feel connected to you anymore. I know why you're upset. I'm just trying to help you through it."

"I don't know when it ends. If it ends," Harry corrected himself. "Maybe I didn't mean to, but I killed Dagmar, Pansy. I know you had your differences with her. So did I, but we'd put that behind us. I don't know that I'd call her a friend, but she was someone to me. I ended her life. Malfoy probably feels right now like I might as well have done the same to him for how badly I did them both over."

"Draco's just going to have to. . ." Pansy trailed off, then sighed. "I hope for his sake he's half as forgiving as you are. I don't know exactly how he's changed since we broke up, but he used to hold onto stuff way too much. I think most the reason he disliked you was because you embarrassed him the first time you met."

"We'd met before that, but I know what you mean," Harry said. "He and I talked about it a bit, not too long ago. I told him about Ron and I using the Polyjuice Potion to impersonate Crabbe and Goyle. He said that if I wanted to be his mate, he might have allowed it if I grovelled enough."

Pansy laughed. "For all the whinging he did about any special treatment you got, he wouldn't have minded it so much if he could benefit from it too."

"I'm sure."

The two of them laughed, but Harry felt a slight pit in his chest. He didn't talk to Malfoy all that terribly much, but Harry already missed what little friendship had sparked there. Malfoy wasn't insufferable at all when he'd mellowed out. Harry still thought that if his and Malfoy's paths crossed enough after Hogwarts, they might have had an actual chance to become mates. Well—it still depended what Pansy would think of that. It might be that Harry could only have one or the other in his life, although Pansy had never expressed discomfort or dislike for Harry pissing around with her ex.

"I don't know how much of that was because of Dagmar, is all," Harry said with a sighed exhale through his nose. "Or how it might just change because she's gone. I hope you don't take it personally if I say she had a way with him."

"Not really." Pansy shrugged. "Draco and I had a way with each other too. We drove each other mental. I hope it's not weird if I say that other than feeding off each other being miserable, the only thing Draco and I were really compatible on was sex. It was still pretty superficial. Not emotional. I just didn't trust him enough to give myself up like that, even if I thought I did."

"Like how you weren't comfortable enough for him to go down on you, or. . .?"

"Yeah, that's one example." Pansy managed to find some space between them to fill in as she pressed closer up. Her cheeks were warm again. "He just wasn't very thoughtful. I was really self-conscious about my fanny because he commented once about my labia. It wasn't even negative. Just a boy realizing it was a thing. Oh, that was a fight. . .he said that, so I pointed out that his foreskin was wrinkly too. Kids really should not shag."

Harry couldn't help but snort. Pansy at least seemed to mean for that, in order to lighten the air when they talked about something so personal. She'd relaxed a bit.

"I'm a little torn on if I wish I had shagged anyone before you or not," Harry said. "Not because I want someone else, but just to have been better prepared. I still feel kind of silly for how much you had to hold my hand through the first while."

"I liked that, though." Pansy kissed his forehead. "It was sweet. If you weren't ready before that, you weren't ready."

"Yeah, true."

"I kind of wonder if I should've waited. It would have certainly been to my benefit," Pansy said. "I was impatient. Oh well. Can't change it, so. . ."

"Nope." Harry wasn't complaining, as far as that went. Really, he was quite happy that his sex life had started so cautiously. He would've much rathered piggy-backed on Pansy's experience than try and figure it out himself. If that had gone as well as trying to figure out dating with Cho, Harry might cringe if he thought too hard on the possibilities.

"We've always seen eye to eye on how important trust is for this, you and I." Pansy ran her fingers through Harry's hair again, her nails lightly raking his scalp. "Draco couldn't even handle labia, so I wouldn't let him close to me during my period. I worried seeing blood might put him off me altogether."

"Oh really?" There were a couple days during her period that Pansy was too cramped up for anything or just generally not in the mood, but nothing was different other than the fact they didn't have penetrative sex. The cup thing Pansy put up inside her to catch the blood was in the way for that. It didn't stop Harry from going down on her, or even fingering her if her cervix wasn't riding too low.

"Yeah, so. . ." A smile fluttered over Pansy. "He and I could never do anything like what you and I just did. You and I have a way with each other too. So no, it doesn't bother me that Dagmar had a way with him."

"I can't imagine losing that, especially to witness it." The good feeling that had briefly returned to Harry vanished again. "When Voldemort was coming at me, there was a split second where I thought about what was about to happen. I never wanted to kill him. I don't think I really had to. It would've been better if we could've taken him alive, because then we know he didn't just slink off or dodge death again. He could've faced justice for everything he's done rather than get the easy way out. When he was walking toward me, he had that look in his eye. I knew he wouldn't hesitate this time. You were the first person I thought of. I couldn't not come home. I couldn't do that to you, or to Ron or Hermione or anybody, really."

"Right," Pansy said quietly.

"If I knew that Dagmar was going to die, I don't think I could've done it." Harry's heart picked up at the concern of upsetting Pansy. "I guess that goes to show what kind of a person Voldemort is. He pushed Erik Ramstad to sacrifice himself so that Dagmar wouldn't die. I wonder if that's why Hildegard tried to kill herself when she first got to Azkaban. Not just because she didn't want to be there, but because she was seriously concerned she might live long enough to see both her children die. She kept everything from Dagmar, so I imagine she was just buying time to make things right with Voldemort."

"Why do you think Hildegard never told you that?"

"Didn't trust me, clearly. And maybe she was right not to, given what happened."

Pansy worked her lips in thought. "What kind of a connection do you think that was between You-Know-Who and Dagmar? What kind of magic?"

"Something druidic, knowing Hildegard." Harry hadn't really thought about it. "There was a connection between me and Voldemort through my scar. It used to hurt sometimes, like if he was nearby or feeling an emotion really strongly. I felt how happy he was when Bellatrix and all them broke out of Azkaban. He used it to lure me out of Hogwarts when I thought Sirius was in danger. After things went sideways at the Ministry, I never felt it again. It was like Voldemort closed the connection. Point is, those connections can happen. Sometimes it just is, like mine, but Hildegard would've had to do it on purpose. Sounds like she did, anyway."

"Hm."

Harry regarded Pansy. "What about it?"

"I kind of wonder if I knew." Pansy spoke as if she was choosing her words carefully. "I had a feeling there was something wrong with her."

Harry furrowed his brow. He remembered Pansy saying that once, but it had long slipped his mind. The context of it certainly changed now.

"I might as well admit this." Pansy looked nervous. "I never wanted to because I didn't want you to think less of me when we first started seeing each other. I was the one that nearly killed Dagmar's cat. It was an accident, but. . .yeah." She wouldn't look at Harry. "I closed him in a cabinet. I didn't realize he'd vanish. I went back to let him out because what kind of person locks a cat in a cabinet? He was gone, so I figured he made a bunch of noise and someone let him out. I didn't think about it until he came back.

"I got literally sick from the guilt, so I confessed to Dagmar. She was right to be mad, but. . .what she did. . ." Pansy's gaze flicked upward to Harry. "It was weird. It was like she changed. She had this look to her, like there was a shadow in her face. She put her hand on my chest, like over my heart, and I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. She said something to me, but it was like my brain couldn't understand her. I thought maybe she said something in Norwegian. But then you told me after I joined the Order she was a Parselmouth."

"She said something in Parseltongue to you?"

"Maybe. I've never heard it enough to know for sure."

Harry focused on a vivid mental visual of a snake so that he could repeat what he'd just said in Parselmouth. Pansy's eyes widened as she listened.

"Yeah, it sounded like that," she said. "I thought I was just seeing things, but her eyes. . ."

"Lit up blue?"

"No." Pansy shook her head. "Red."

Harry's brow fell into a furrow. "Red?"

"Yeah."

So that he could really absorb that, Harry ignored for now the simultaneous sinking of his stomach and speeding up of his heart. It was hard not to feel uncomfortable in his skin as he tried to parse that out. Red eyes? Harry had only ever heard of them going blue. It's all he'd ever seen. The bit Pansy said about a shadow on Dagmar's face, he might know about. It jarred Harry's memory of the time he'd used Legilimency on Dagmar in Defence class. She'd looked at him after that in a very dangerous way, almost like something reptilian had come over her.

Pansy turned nervous again as she studied Harry. "I should've told you sooner, shouldn't I?"

"Dunno."

"I'm sorry. I didn't think I could tell you without having to say why it happened."

There was a slight ringing in Harry's ear. He untangled himself from Pansy and reached over her for his pants. He jumped into them and headed for his dresser.

Pansy reached down to the end of the bed and pulled the comforter up over her. "Are you mad at me?"

"Dunno."

Harry wasn't sure what he felt aside from sick. He dressed mechanically, all thoughts of lunch gone along with his want for company. He needed to think. Staying at Grimmauld Place wasn't in Harry's best interest. He knew Pansy was upset with him going. He understood why, but Harry didn't really want to focus on that right now. He couldn't until he figured out just what this might mean.

Unsure where else to go, Harry went by floo back to Ramstad Manor. He could at least talk to Dumbledore about this in a couple hours if he had time for it. Dumbledore was already busy trying to clean up another one of Harry's messes. He might not have time to humour Harry about something that came too late to change anything. It no longer mattered in any substantial way that Harry might have been able to save Dagmar.

Harry nodded in greeting at the Order members present in the manor house's great room before carrying through to the foyer. He headed upstairs into Dagmar's old room and closed the door behind him. The people downstairs were so quiet that all sound of them vanished when Harry was alone.

He felt a little weird being here, regardless of Dagmar being dead. Her personal belongings had long been removed. While the Crabbes and Goyles stayed here until they were moved to Canada, this had been Mr. and Mrs. Goyles' room. It should feel like any other bedroom. With Dagmar so heavily on Harry's mind, all he saw was the shell of a life half-lived.

Harry went over to the desk and sat down. Although he knew there would be nothing in it, he half-heartedly checked the drawers. There wasn't even ink, quills, or parchment. Harry glanced at the window, and then again. Déjà vu had hit him. There was a snippet of Dagmar's cat sitting there, but Harry couldn't remember where he'd seen it. During Legilimency, maybe? That seemed like the best bet.

Dwelling on that was a paltry distraction. Harry didn't know what to think. He didn't want to blame Pansy. That didn't seem fair, given her reasons for keeping it from Harry. Harry could've found out on his own if he'd pushed her on it. He had a chance back when she had told him there was something weird about Dagmar. Then again, how long had he and Pansy been seeing each other at that point? They certainly weren't going together yet.

Even if Harry knew, what realistically could've been done? Hildegard and Erik failed to right it. There wasn't any immediate solution thrown out on the table at yesterday's Order meeting when Dumbledore broke the story to everyone. If Hildegard couldn't fix it, then that was as far as it really had to go. Dagmar had been doomed when she was only a baby—much like Harry—and things could only play out. None of them had control, except maybe Voldemort. It had been to serve his interests, after all.

Harry didn't much feel like going home. A little bit before two, he went back downstairs. The great room had cleared out. Harry's bum had hardly touched one of the couches when the drawing room door opened. Harry was significantly less nervous than the day before to see Hermione. Her eyes were red around the rims, irritated, but she managed a small smile and hello when they passed each other. Dumbledore looked about as tired as Harry felt. He gestured him into the drawing room, then closed the door behind them.

"How's it going?" Harry asked as he took the seat closest to where Dumbledore had set himself up that morning.

"Good, I believe." Dumbledore sat back down as well. "I think what you, Hermione, and Hagrid have to say about Draco's youth will paint a plain picture of how exactly he has grown up. I spoke to Janne Dyrdahl. Tomorrow I'll be traveling to Bergen to speak to some more people Draco knew in Norway. Ingrid, Janne's daughter, is expecting me. She and her husband Roar trusted Dagmar and Draco to babysit their daughters. I haven't received an owl back from Jotunheimen yet, but I'd like to hear what Draco's superior, mentor, and co-workers have to say about him."

"That's good." Harry paused. "Right?"

"Gunvor has already told me that if Draco is released from Azkaban and deemed innocent of Death Eater activity, he still has a job." Dumbledore sifted through some parchment in the various piles he had created. "She's willing to give him a chance in that situation. I just hope it extends to her willing to help. If she was simply waiting to see what the court had to say, she might be hesitant to get involved beyond that. All she has to do is answer to how Draco was during the time she knew him. It shouldn't be too much a moral conundrum, if one at all."

"Yeah."

Dumbledore dipped his quill into some ink. "Have you thought at all about what things from Draco's youth highlight his character?"

"Sort of." Harry had mostly forgotten about it after the conversation he had with Pansy. "First year, he tried to get me and Ron in trouble by challenging us to a duel and then telling on us to Filch. He tried to get Hagrid in trouble. . ."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled when Harry trailed off. "Hagrid told me about Norbert."

"Right," Harry said softly under his breath. "Erm. . .second year, Malfoy wasn't involved with the Chamber of Secrets, but he wanted to be."

"Hermione told me about the Polyjuice Potion, as well," Dumbledore said without looking up from what he was writing. "I knew she had used one because she ended up in the hospital wing, but I didn't know the purpose behind it. Excellent sleuthing, even if clearing Draco's name wasn't your intention."

Harry's smile was brief. "Third year, Buckbeak. Fourth year, he was feeding rumours and general dung to Rita Skeeter. He told me that at the end of the year. . .hm."

Harry started walking into dubious territory. Up until Cedric died, Malfoy had copped to everything and admitted that it came from a place of malice. After that, though. . .

"Things get kind of sticky there," Harry said. "Malfoy and I talked this summer about all the stupid stuff we did to each other when we were younger. I could tell you what he did to me after Voldemort came back, but my perception of it wasn't entirely accurate. He was starting to struggle with some things."

Dumbledore touched his beard thoughtfully. "What wasn't accurate?"

"After I came back from Little Hangleton with Cedric's body, Malfoy came up to me and told me basically that Cedric was an idiot and had what was coming to him. But Malfoy told me later that he'd rooted for Cedric in the Tournament. He thought it was stupid that I was in it, that I didn't deserve to be there, and that I probably put my own name in for attention. Malfoy said he talked to his dad about me being in the Tournament and all that, and then he panicked when Cedric died and you said Voldemort was back. He liked Cedric and was rooting for him to win. Cedric was a pureblood, and Voldemort killed him for nothing. Just because he was there. Malfoy said that it wouldn't have mattered if he was the one there with me in the graveyard. Voldemort would've killed him without a single thought. So he had to forget his other feelings about Cedric and try and convince himself that Cedric was just an idiot that got in the way, and that he probably deserved it. But he couldn't make himself believe it. He said he went home that summer and was sick the entire time because he couldn't make himself believe things were okay."

"I see."

"He said a bunch of stuff about fifth year too," Harry said. "He knew where the Room of Requirement was. He'd found it on accident before. Happened across it again one night in November when the DA was meeting. He decided it was more funny to mess around with Umbridge than me, so he never told anybody about it. He didn't tell her anything either when she made him the head of her little squad. Just helped make more chaos around the castle to spite her after she made herself Headmistress. He said that when Umbridge caught me using her fireplace to try and talk to Sirius, he thought about attacking her if she used the Cruciatus Curse on me like she said she would. But Hermione talked her out of it, so nothing really ever happened with it."

The sparkle had returned to Dumbledore's eye while Harry spoke. "I've never heard that."

"He didn't even tell Dagmar. Malfoy was pretty quiet sixth year. Still got on my nerves sometimes, but he didn't go out of his way to be a prat."

"I can quantify that." Dumbledore nodded. "I certainly had a fewer number of complaints about him that year. My assumption was that with his father narrowly escaping incarceration in the Department of Mysteries, Draco deemed it time to draw the least amount of attention to himself as possible. Of course, I'm much happier that it was by his own volition rather than the result of toeing the line on behalf of Voldemort or a Death Eater, even if that Death Eater happened to be his father."

"Yeah." Harry paused. "That's about it. Nothing really happened that one year besides him poking the odd fun or being annoying in class. You know all about last year already."

"I still have all my meeting notes from that," Dumbledore confirmed.

"If I thought of it, I would've brought you my notes from work." Harry scratched the back of his neck. "I could, if you want. I used a messenger pair, so I have a copy at home. The other one's still in my desk at work, far as I know. Unless Kingsley took it for some reason."

"He never mentioned it when he popped by this morning." Dumbledore stopped his ink bottle. "He said you lost your wand?"

Harry nodded. A sense of being stupid seeped back in.

"He looked into it last night after the meeting. What was the last charm you remember using with it?"

"The Killing Curse. I don't think I used it at all after that."

"Kingsley is still going to ask the Norwegian Head Auror if it's in their possession, but he doesn't have very high hopes of that." Dumbledore lowered his chin so that he could peer at Harry over his glasses. "Kingsley's Trace records on your wand show that a Cruciatus Curse was used after the Killing Curse."

Harry's stomach sunk. "So it probably got picked up by Bellatrix or something, then."

"Most likely."

"Nothing since then? Just that one?"

"Just the one."

Harry's shoulders followed his stomach in a downward trajectory. "Well, I don't have much hope I'll ever see it again. I might as well go buy a new one."

The feeling like Harry had lost an arm draped over him like a heavy blanket. He'd had that wand since he was eleven years old. It had been the thing that made it real to him he was a wizard. It was the crux between the lonely life he lived before receiving his letter and finding a true home at Hogwarts. His wand had gotten him out of a lot of bad situations. It deserved better than to be lost to the hands of someone like Bellatrix Lestrange.

"It's quite a thing to lose, especially in such a way," Dumbledore said. "A pity, really."

"Yeah."

"I'm sure Kingsley will want to touch base with you on it as your superior." Dumbledore started putting his piles of parchment together. "He filed that it was missing so that if anything comes up about that use of the Cruciatus Curse, it can't be put mistakenly on you."

"I wish I'd realized sooner that it was gone. I just haven't used magic since Bergen."

"That's completely understandable."

Thinking about his panicked search brought Pansy back to Harry's mind. Harry pressed his lips together as he watched Dumbledore pack up. "There was something else I wanted to talk to you about."

Dumbledore slowed. "Oh?"

"Pansy told me this morning that in hindsight, she might have known Dagmar was somehow connected to Voldemort," Harry said. "That connection had to be there since before me and Voldemort were connected with my scar. I think I saw it too, maybe. It's hard to say. Things got muddled because of her being a druid."

"You mean like her being a Parselmouth?"

"I guess." Harry hadn't thought about that yet in this context. "Having a connection with Voldemort is how I got to be one. But Dagmar already got it through her mum. And her mum definitely was one. Me and Hildegard talked in Parseltongue whenever I visited her at Azkaban."

Dumbledore leaned back in his seat, brow low in thought as he considered Harry. "Did your scar ever hurt at all around Dagmar?"

"Nope." Harry didn't even have to think about it. He would've definitely noticed. "Whenever it would tingle or hurt, she was never around. I would think that if something like that was going to happen, it would've happened when we were paired up for the Occlumency unit in Defence."

Dumbledore nodded slowly. "What did you think you saw, regarding the connection?"

"The way she looked at me the time in Defence class that I saw the Little Hangleton graveyard. It was like. . .a shadow in her face." The way Pansy had described it was the most accurate way Harry could think to. "It was like the lights in her went out."

"Hm." Dumbledore idly stroked his beard. "I might ask Draco about that, if it isn't too sensitive a topic. I don't know that he would cope well with the idea this may have been preventable. He said that their plan was to come to me about it after Voldemort left their house, but I haven't the faintest how such a thing would be reversed."

"I think Hildegard would've done it, if it could be done."

"The original deal between Hildegard and Voldemort, according to Bellatrix, was that Dagmar was collateral until the phylactery was finished," Dumbledore said. "Hildegard couldn't finish it for whatever reason before it was lost. My guess is the final step was transferring a piece of Voldemort's soul over. I would imagine Voldemort refused to let the collateral end until the phylactery was recovered. Hildegard would've had no choice but to fall into his service when he returned if she wanted to end that connection between Dagmar and Voldemort."

"So you think the only person that could do anything about it was Voldemort?"

That made Harry feel sort of better. It was all out of his control. At the same time, it was a confirmation that there was absolutely no helping Dagmar. She was and always had been at Voldemort's mercy. Everything she did and every dream she had meant nothing. So long as Voldemort was held back from this one goal, time was running out for her.

"Voldemort may not have felt love, but he understood it well enough to weaponize it." Dumbledore sighed and folded his fingers together over his stomach. "There is hardly a greater love in this world than what a parent feels for their child. Losing one—or the fear of losing one—is a powerful motivator. I've been thinking not only about Hildegard and Erik about it, but Lucius and Narcissa as well."

"What about them?" Harry asked. "You think Voldemort was using Malfoy against them too somehow?"

"Perhaps, although clearly not to the same degree as Dagmar. We can safely assume that Lucius knew about the connection between Dagmar and Voldemort. And yet, he agreed to move forward with arranging Draco and Dagmar together for marriage. It wasn't like Draco and Dagmar had already been arranged and he just let it happen. He acted to sever the arrangements between Draco and Pansy, and between Dagmar and Blaise."

Harry bowed his head. "I should really go over all my notes again from when I talked to Hildegard. I asked her about the arranged marriage, why they did it and all. I remember she said that the Malfoys had originally wanted Dagmar for Malfoy, but Dagmar thought he was a git so they went with Zabini instead."

Dumbledore chuckled, although the amount of humour in it was lacking.

"It was kind of like Mrs. Malfoy said in that letter she left Malfoy when she left," Harry said. "Hildegard knew Dagmar had no sympathies for Voldemort. She told Mrs. Malfoy that, and Mrs. Malfoy thought that meant Malfoy would basically hitch a ride out of all the Death Eater stuff. But if Mr. Malfoy knew, why would he put Malfoy with Dagmar?"

"Perhaps he was optimistic about the connection being severed, and then Dagmar would be fine to carry on as she was."

"Something Malfoy said once. . ." That triggered something in Harry's memory. "When him and I got together over the summer, he told me that his dad said something about Voldemort always taking care of those who were loyal to him. Mr. Malfoy probably believed that Voldemort would end the connection between him and Dagmar if they found the locket. I don't get why Mr. Malfoy would risk it, though. Look at Malfoy now. I'm sure Mr. Malfoy can't blame his son's suffering on anyone but himself. Malfoy probably wouldn't have given Dagmar dying a second thought if they hadn't started going together. They didn't have any feelings for each other at all before that. They didn't even really dislike each other. Well—Dagmar didn't like him. Malfoy was apathetic."

"Because Lucius did not search for Voldemort after his disappearance in 1981, Voldemort may have used it as a test of faith after his return—or as assurance that something was at stake, should Lucius betray him. If it was Lucius' own volition that the arrangement occur, he may have known that Draco was drifting in ideology after Cedric died. Once Draco was old enough to join the Death Eaters, the fear of losing Dagmar may have compelled him to join the hunt for the locket."

Harry's stomach twisted with discomfort. He didn't like the thought that all the work Malfoy had done to escape that lifestyle was similarly hopeless. "And neither Mr. Malfoy or Hildegard will say anything about it?"

"That in particular, I'm not sure." Dumbledore removed his glasses so that he could rub the bridge of his nose. "When I returned to Azkaban on Thursday, I focused entirely on Draco."

"Do you think it's worth talking to them about?"

Dumbledore tilted his head one way, then the other. "As far as Draco's trial goes, perhaps not. They might become useful afterward when our focus shifts to tracking down the remaining Death Eaters. Hildegard needs to tell us where Fantomøy is. Kingsley had a deal with her. If her information led to Voldemort's permanent defeat, she would have a chance to go free."

"Yeah." Harry had forgotten about that.

"If she wants that honoured, she may need to start giving us details about how exactly Voldemort is gone," Dumbledore replied. "She's understandably upset right now. She lost her son fifteen years ago. Her husband died less than a year ago. Now her daughter is gone. If she still has a hope for her freedom, she's going to have to try and see past that just long enough to be cooperative."

Harry felt on the verge of a sweat. "Do we really want her walking free?"

"If she does go free, it won't be without conditions. She said she wouldn't care to interact with the wizarding world anymore, but she might not have a choice for a while."

"I'm really not comfortable with it," Harry said. "I think she might be out for me, given what happened."

"That'll certainly be something to consider." Dumbledore put his glasses back on and spared a quick smile. "Don't worry. There will be no honour system for her."

"Okay." It still made Harry nervous. He didn't want to find out the full lengths of Hildegard's magical abilities.

"We can talk about that later," Dumbledore assured him. "We'll move as fast as we can in finding the rest of the Death Eaters. When it comes to anyone walking free, nobody will be slipping away through the cracks. I'll guarantee you that."