Chapter 39: Perennial and Primordial

After doubling back to Dumbledore again, Harry headed to his room to grab a few things. Not wanting to waste any time when they passed through Grimmauld Place, Harry wrote the same message to Ron and Pansy: Hermione and I might have hit on something. We're going to head off to Bergen. Meet you at Grimmauld Place sometime tonight. If something else comes up, I'll let you know.

Harry filled one of his bags with notebooks and laid his thicker coat over his arm. He had no idea what to expect weather-wise in Bergen, but February had already made its characteristic arrival at Hogwarts.

"Good luck," Dumbledore bid them. "We'll touch base when you return?"

"Yep," Harry said. "I already told Ron and Pansy we'd probably be back at Grimmauld Place tonight to fill them in. I could let you know when we're ready?"

"If you would."

Harry headed through the fireplace first. He didn't know if he should feel surprised or not that Ron sat in the parlour. His hair stood up a little, as if he'd dressed in a rush.

"Hey," he greeted Harry. "All right if I come?"

While Harry opened his mouth, Hermione stepped out beside him. "Oh, hey Ron."

"Hi," he replied. "Can I come?"

"Get your coat," Harry told him.

"This is Ministry business, though," Hermione said. "Not that I wouldn't love you to come, Ron—"

"He's an Order member." Harry shrugged. "He's gonna hear anyway."

"I—oh, all right."

Harry was very glad Ron had thought to ask. He'd wanted Ron to come up to Hogwarts since the joke shop was closed, but there was no justifying it when the likes of Aurors and dragonologists crawled all over the place. It had left Ron indignant and Harry supremely aware of this void beside him. Dealing with these sorts of things just wasn't the same without him.

Tuesday afternoon was a slow time for the floo junction. Hermione grabbed Harry's elbow when they stood in front of the Norwegian connections. "Why don't we just go to Trondheim? I bet it's not that much further from Jotunheimen than Bergen for an owl to fly, and then we can wait right there on a reply from Marit."

"Sure."

Déjà vu came over Harry as they arrived one by one into a room at the back of an inn. February in Trondheim looked a lot like October had. The sun was still up, but it hardly mattered because of the rain. It pattered against the ceiling windows.

"Hallo," the man working the counter greeted them. "Hvordan kan jeg hjelpe deg?"

"Er, snakker du engelsk?" Harry had learned that after coming to Norway enough times.

"Ja," he replied. "Need something?"

"You wouldn't happen to know if Marit and Ødger Olsen are around, would you?"

The man eyed Harry up and down before glancing at Hermione and Ron. "They in trouble?"

"No, I know them," Harry said. Feeling a bit like a prat, he dug his Auror credentials out of his pocket to show. "I was here in October helping them try to find anything about her brother out on the fjord."

After a good stare at his credentials, the man looked back at Harry. "Right. I remember seeing you around. Marit and Ødger came through a few days ago. I think they're back out on their boat. I have an owl that would reach them quicker than any you'd find at the post office. Need some writing materials?"

Harry decided he might as well just ask his question in the note rather than make Marit go out of her way to come find him for something so simple. The man behind the counter took it to send off, and then pointed Harry, Ron, and Hermione in direction of the post office. Stepping out into the rain, Harry pulled the hood of his coat up. Raindrops still blew slightly sideways and directly into his face. The river roared nearby.

English was a shakier thing to come by at the post office. One of the people working there spoke it, but was well out of practice. Harry ended up addressing his letter to Big Swede since he had a feeling the owl would make it to Jotunheimen too late to catch the warden before she went home. When Harry looked back into his notes and did the math, Big Swede ought to be on evening shift right now. The letter could probably reach him by midnight so long as the weather wasn't too rotten up in the mountains.

Ron hugged his coat to himself as the three of them stepped back out onto the boardwalk. "Well, what now? We just wait?"

"This is honestly the thick of the action as far as being an Auror goes," Harry said. "Why don't we go back to the inn? I could go for a bite. Could also stand to dry off."

"Sure." Hermione started them that way. "We could start breaking all of this down. Ron could be brought up to speed."

"I'm trying to be patient, but. . ." Smiling, Ron shrugged. "You think you've cracked something big?"

"Huge, if we're right," Harry told him. "I'm also really relieved to say that I think it would give us a massive advantage in all this."

That piqued Ron's interest more than anything. Close to the inn, Hermione mentioned that perhaps it wasn't proper they discuss all of this on the main floor of the restaurant. Thankfully, there were a couple private dining rooms. The man they talked to earlier—who now introduced himself as Espen—was fine to let them have one without paying the reservation fee. In his words, "Business has been a little slow with all this Death Eater nonsense. If I can help you speed things up, it's worth the coin."

"How about dinner, then?" Ron asked as Espen showed them to a room fit for six occupants. "I'm hungry enough, I could certainly make it worth your while to fill up whatever part of the table isn't covered in parchment."

"I'll bring you a menu," Espen offered.

"I don't think I'd recognize anything on it, to be honest," Ron replied. "Bit of everything you offer?"

Just like that, Harry figured Ron became Espen's favourite between them. While Harry and Hermione started unpacking all of their notebooks, Ron counted some galleons out of his coin pouch.

Harry took a double-glance when he saw close to ten of them sitting on the table. "Norway's expensive, but not that expensive."

"I like to tip well," Ron said. "What's the drinking age here?"

"Sixteen for beer and wine," Hermione answered. "Seventeen for everything else."

"Cool. You two thirsty?"

Espen was back in short order with something akin to a charcuterie platter. It had some different kinds of meats, cheeses, fruits, and then various pickled things. The herring's smell overshadowed everything. Espen also had small bowls of fiskesuppe, which had been the special for the night. He came back with a pitcher of beer and a bottle of wine.

Harry chewed on a piece of the brown cheese while organizing his various notebooks, messengers, and files. Dumbledore had given him some out of the Hogwarts record hall to look through. He had Luca's, Dagmar's, and Tom Riddle's. Tom's was slightly discoloured with age. Harry opened it out of curiosity and paused.

The very top thing in the file was Tom's graduation photo. When Harry had seen Tom in the diary, he was about sixteen and a half years old. Here, two years older. Luca was recently seventeen. The resemblance remained uncanny as far as Harry could tell from staring at the picture.

"Bloody hell, they really do like alike, don't they?" Ron asked. "Dumbledore gave you You-Know-Who's student file? Why?"

"Because if I'm right, then Voldemort and Luca are related." Harry closed the file and dug up his work messenger instead. "I think Hildegard lied when she said she was a lich. Well, thing is, she never told me that's what she was. I just assumed based on the information she gave me about Voldemort's phylactery. She might actually be a doppelgänger."

Ron's eyebrows went up. "We wouldn't be talking about it if it didn't fit, right? Does it?"

"All we've taken so far is a glance," Harry continued. "Let's start from the beginning with Hildegard.

"Christmas Day, 1339, Hildegard is born to Bjorn and Dagmar Ramstad in Roskilde, Denmark." Harry referred to his page on Hildegard. "She had two older brothers named Rune and Sten, and an older sister named Aslaug. Two or three years later, she gets another younger sister named Thurid. In 1350 when she's ten years old, the Black Plague comes through and everyone but Hildegard and Aslaug dies. Hildegard wasn't entirely clear on the specifics, but she said that a druid named Freja found them and took them in. When I asked if she meant the Freja from Norse mythology, she got coy enough about it that I think it might have been."

"Oh," Hermione said quietly.

"Something to add?" Harry asked.

"I wonder. . ." Hermione tapped her fingertips against her chin. "Damn, I wish I could look it up at the library just to be sure, but there's this thing about the Norse goddess Freja. She had two names she went by. I remember reading about the debate of whether or not Freja and Frigg were supposed to be one in the same. In mythology, both are goddesses of similar things. Both were married to Odin. If Freja taught Hildegard druidic magic, she could have helped her become a doppelgänger. Frigg might have been to Freja like Dagmar was to Hildegard."

"Write it down," Harry told her. "It's possible. So Freja finds Hildegard and Aslaug and takes them in under her wing. They join her clan, and the two of them learn from Freja how to essentially become immortal. All's pretty good until a couple hundred years ago. Doppelgängers were on the extermination decree lists that went around in Britain, Scandinavia, Russia, Germany, and Finland. Hildegard's clan gets hit. Only she and Helka survive."

"What was that Helka had said about Aslaug?" Ron asked. "That she was really close to popping with a baby?"

"Yep." Harry nodded. "So if you want to use the word, Aslaug's phylactery was killed along with her. Hildegard and Helka go their separate ways, unaware that the other one is still alive. Hildegard makes her way somewhere where she finds that hafgufa. We come up to the mid-seventies then, when Hildegard first met Voldemort. She offered him immortality. If Hildegard's a doppelgänger, then it must be possible for doppelgängers to produce males. They probably had to shag.

"Hildegard had told me that Voldemort didn't trust her when they first met. Well, what better way to prove she was a doppelgänger than show Voldemort how it was done? According to official governmental records, Hildegard was born in 1962. That might have just been the year she had the daughter who came before Dagmar. So when Voldemort met Hildegard, he would've met her and Hildegard's teenaged daughter. When the daughter came up on eighteen, Hildegard must have died. She would've transferred over to the daughter's body. If she got spontaneously pregnant with Dagmar, wouldn't that be enough proof to Voldemort that Hildegard was what she said? Dagmar was born in mid-August 1980. Luca's birthday is December 1981. That means Hildegard would've fallen pregnant with him in the March or April after she had Dagmar."

"Whoa, hold on." Ron rushed to swallow the fillet of pickled herring he idly chewed on. "You think—? Well, I mean, we've always known Luca and You-Know-Who looked alike. . ."

"I jumped a little, but Luca was born as Bjorn if this is true." Harry backtracked a bit. "I don't think there ever was a locket. Hildegard and Mr. Malfoy just put us on a wild goose chase with that. They probably had a story all worked out in case anyone got too close to the truth. Hildegard told me that Magnus Norheim left Fantomøy the night he killed Bjorn. Maybe he just took him. Hildegard was adamant that Magnus would never destroy Voldemort's phylactery. Well, yeah, not if it would mean killing a child. Magnus was Bjorn's stepfather. He was attached to the kid."

Ron leaned heavily on his elbow, holding his jaw. "Can you be completely sure Bjorn wasn't with Magnus, and that that was why Bellatrix killed him in Paris?"

"All the people we talked to down in the Catacombs never mentioned a boy," Harry said. "Magnus had been alone there since the mid-eighties. Memory modification is very unlikely given the scale it would've had to happen at. Everyone was consistent in what they said about his life there."

Ron hummed. "So with this theory, Magnus leaves Trondheim—well, here—with Bjorn. He must have gone as far as Romania if Luca ended up with Professor Parasca. She was an Auror. The Head Auror. I bet Magnus would've thought Bjorn would be safe with her."

"I don't think Parasca knew who he was," Harry replied. "I don't even think she knew that Luca looked like Tom Riddle. She might have adopted him, but I think it was more chance than anything."

"Are we going to Romania, then?" Ron asked. "To see about it?"

"Dumbledore mentioned a potion Snape can make that will confirm a relation. It takes a week. In the meantime, there's stuff we can do. We'll get confirmation from Marit that Bjorn was younger than Dagmar. We contacted Big Swede to see if he'd take us to Leidfall so we can talk to Helka. We don't even have to go to the Balkans. Really, we shouldn't. I'd rather avoid talking to people if we can. People lie too much. We'll find out what we can, and then confirm things either way with the potion."

"If Luca's at all aware he's adopted, Zabini will know," Ron replied. "Malfoy too."

"I'm trying to leave him out of all this," Harry replied.

"Why? You don't think he'd know? Or that he ought to know?"

"There are some bad consequences for Dagmar, if this is all true. She might still be alive."

Ron's eyes widened. "How?"

"Bellatrix told Dagmar that she was collateral for if Voldemort died," Harry said. "I heard a snapping sound when the Killing Curse bounced off him. It hit Dagmar. We never recovered Dagmar's body. Voldemort might be walking around in it."

"Does that really mean Dagmar survived, though?" Ron glanced at Hermione with a grimace. "I mean, I hope she did. Or do I? Could you imagine being trapped like that? But she could still maybe be okay, you think?"

"Helka might know if Dagmar survived." Harry wrote that down too to ask about. "She might know this magic. What we could make a good guess at is what Voldemort's after right now. He wants Bjorn—Luca. If Luca was supposed to be his phylactery or doppelgänger or whatever, Voldemort wants his body. He's going to be after him. They're all going to be."

"Oh man," Ron said under his breath.

"So yeah, if Dagmar didn't survive, then I can't do that to Malfoy again. I can't get his hopes up just to crush them." Harry sighed. "Even if Helka says it's possible, I don't know if we should say anything. We have no idea how long it might be until Voldemort figures out Bjorn's at Hogwarts. Could you imagine that for Malfoy, knowing she's alive somewhere out there but he can't do a damn thing about it?"

"He could, though," Ron replied. "He could hand over Luca."

Silence fell over the three of them. It was good timing, since Espen arrived then with more food to put in front of Ron. While Harry considered the possibility, that defensive feeling started to rise in his gut.

"I don't think he would," Harry said when Espen left again. "Luca's his mate. So's Zabini. Malfoy would be killing Luca. I don't think he could do that to them—to all of his mates—after he's felt what it's like to have someone you love pulled out from underneath you."

"Dagmar wouldn't want it either," Hermione added. "She'd never respect someone that did that."

"Would that change if her life is on the line?" Ron asked. "I don't mean to put a damper on it all. You two know Malfoy and Ramstad a lot better than me too. But it's worth wondering, isn't it?"

"Yeah," Harry hesitated to admit. "I don't know, though. My gut says no."

"Should probably still operate on the assumption." Ron picked up his fork again to eat some more. "You don't want to be wrong."

"If this is all true, they should probably be prepared."

"There must be a middle ground." Ron shrugged. "I'm sure there's some sort of story we could come up with that could achieve that without sending anyone into a tailspin."

Harry wrote that down as well. He didn't feel good about it, which was a good thing. In all the right conditions, he trusted Malfoy. Thing is, they didn't know all the current conditions. They didn't know if any of this was true. There might yet be something Voldemort held up his sleeve.

Things might become clearer again once Harry fixed all his notes. He finally made himself up a plate from all the food they'd ordered. He poked at it clumsily with his left hand while his right dashed along continuously. Once he'd gotten a single pass down of all this new theory, Harry closed the messenger and pushed it aside.

"We're not going to eat all this," Ron resigned to say after clearing half his plate. "I could box some up for Fred and George. It might butter them up on not expecting me to help them produce product during the lockdown. If you're going to Leidfall, I want to come if I can."

"You bought all the food," Hermione said. "Do whatever you want with it. You might have to ask about Leidfall, though."

"I'll ask Dumbledore," Ron replied. "You'd probably go on behalf of Madam Prickle, right? Harry would go for the Auror office. So who's going on behalf of the Order?"

"It's worth asking," Harry told him.

The three of them continued eating. When Harry started to feel full, something almost like panic came over him when Espen's characteristic knock sounded at the door. He didn't have another trolley to unload, thank goodness. He held a small piece of rolled parchment in his hand.

"Skadi made it back already." Espen passed behind Ron to hold the note out to Harry.

"Cheers," Harry told him. He unrolled it right away, skipping for now over Marit's response to Harry having asked how she'd been keeping and confirming that yes, it had been a little while since they last corresponded. Harry waited until Espen had closed the door to tell Ron and Hermione what they already suspected. "Bjorn was younger than Dagmar."

"Okay." Hermione nodded. "So then we wait for Big Swede, I guess."

Harry ran through his notes in the meantime, wondering how long they ought to wait. They'd told Big Swede they would be here, but what if the owl they sent didn't make it there in time to catch him tonight? Harry supposed he wouldn't mind spending the night, or just coming back in the morning to see about a response.

He went back and forth a bit with Pansy as well while he, Ron, and Hermione chatted. The three of them agreed on ten o'clock, when the inn restaurant closed, to be when they called it. A little past nine, another knock came at the door.

Espen poked his head in. "Got a bloke here from the dragon reserve. Said you wanted to talk to him?"

Eyebrows raised, Harry looked back and forth between Ron and Hermione. "Yeah, we did."

Espen headed off then, and Big Swede ducked his head to enter. He wore his work uniform, the armour bulking him up to look bigger than he already was.

He nodded at Harry in greeting, looking something between curious and keen as his gaze darted between Ron and Hermione. "This is the place, huh?"

"Er, yeah." Harry stood and moved around Ron to shake Big Swede's hand. "Nice to see you again. This is Ron. Hermione you might remember from Malfoy's trial. She works in the Magical Creature department back at our Ministry. Ron's here for the Order of the Phoenix."

"Don't mean to sound thick, but what's that?"

"Oh—Dumbledore runs it," Ron answered while it was his turn to get his arm wrenched. "We're helping the British Ministry clean up the rest of the Death Eaters as best we can."

"Ah." Big Swede pulled out the chair closest to the door. It groaned underneath him as he got comfortable. "So what do you need to talk to me about? I was a little surprised to get an owl from you."

"Most of the stuff we're doing right now is getting to the bottom of how things went wrong with Dagmar and her mum." Harry tried to keep his explanation slim. "It's really important now since her mum got broken out of Azkaban. We need to know what exactly we're dealing with. Is there any chance you'd be able or willing to take us to Leidfall so we can talk to the Matriarch? She knew Dagmar's mum way back in the day."

"That's what Draco and Dagmar said when they came out of there." Big Swede narrowed an eye in thought as he scratched his beard. "I probably could, but I can't talk to them. I can only feel where it is."

"That's okay," Harry said. "We have that covered. We just need to get there."

"That's going to be tricky too, this time of year," Big Swede replied. "It'll be either blizzard conditions or extreme cold you deal with. There isn't much for in-between. Even on the coast where my cousin lives, they've been getting twenty-below."

"We're okay with that."

Big Swede's eyes glinted with humour the same way Hagrid's did. "Everyone says that 'til they feel it for themselves. If you're sure, though. . .ja, I could. Felix would give us a ride out."

"When could you take us, do you think?" Harry asked.

"Sooner the better, right?" Big Swede scratched his beard again. "Could probably go this weekend. Leave first thing Sunday. I'd just have to be back by Tuesday afternoon for work."

"You'd know better than me if that's doable."

"Let me think about it," Big Swede said. "I'll leave a note for Gunvor to see about opening up the dragon reserve enough for you to come up there. We could talk about it all somewhere more private. I'll write Felix, see what he says."

He couldn't stay for long since he was on the clock, but Harry felt good that he'd accomplished as much as he, Ron, and Hermione could in Trondheim. Harry shook Big Swede's hand again when he left, then started packing his things up.

It was still only eight-thirty back in London. Harry didn't think that was too late to bother Dumbledore, especially not with something as important and time-sensitive as this might be. He went up to his room to change and let Pansy know he was back through their messenger. Ron had volunteered to poke his head in the fire and let Dumbledore know the same thing. When Harry returned downstairs, Ron was already putting water on for tea in the kitchen. All the food he'd needed boxed up in Trondheim still sat on the counter. Harry sat down across from Dumbledore at the table.

"Trondheim was productive?" Dumbledore asked him.

"As much as it could be, I think," Harry replied. He'd brought all his things back down with him. "I just sent a quick note to Marit asking if Bjorn was younger or older than Dagmar. She confirmed he was younger. We also talked to Big Swede. He's open about taking us to Leidfall. He'll see about us being able to come chat with him more about it at the dragon reserve. So far, everything seems to be lining up."

"Care to run me through it all again?"

"Er, would it be all right to wait for Pansy?" Harry asked. "She's going to come over."

Dumbledore smiled. "Sure."

It wasn't until Thursday that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were able to travel up to Jotunheimen to talk to Big Swede. He came up in the late morning when he was off-shift to chat. Harry was glad to hear that Big Swede had already reached out to Felix. Felix was excited to go for a drive out into the country. He'd told Big Swede to pass along his warning about the weather. Västerbotton County, where Umeå was located, had been hit with a foot of snow. West of there in Lappland had it worse. The only reason it had stopped snowing was because the polar vortex made it too cold for precipitation.

Given the circumstances, Gunvor told Big Swede just to take Saturday and Tuesday off. Harry only had until the next evening to get everything he needed for what shaped up to be a taxing journey. He, Ron, and Hermione headed up to Bergen after dinner on Friday. Harry and Pansy had gone back and forth on the discussion of whether she wanted to come with him for the night, but ultimately decided against it. Given that Harry never did things like this anymore with Ron and Hermione, Pansy wanted to let him have it.

Five-thirty in Bergen was a shock to Harry's system when it came on Saturday morning. The time change didn't help. Ron and Hermione looked equally tired when they all met up in Den Sultne Jotunn's lobby. Harry's eyes fell out of focus as he stared at the unassuming island in the fountain.

Big Swede showed up with a mug about the size of Harry's head filled with coffee. The four of them headed over to Stockholm before going north to Umeå. As soon as Harry stepped out of the fireplace, he could feel the cold seeping in from outside. It wasn't a type of cold he was used to, even when not directly exposed.

"Felix will have his car running," Big Swede said. "We'll be as quick as we can, putting stuff in the boot."

Harry pulled his balaclava up over his nose before the four of them stepped out into the park. A dark blue Volvo idled not too far away. Big Swede led them over to it.

Only when they were a few strides away from the boot did Felix get out of the car. He hugged his arms to himself as everyone dropped their bags in the back. Harry got in the car as quickly as he could to avoid the heat escaping. It was still a little chilly in there as Harry settled between Ron and Hermione in the back seat. Big Swede took the front. With Hermione behind him, he could slide his seat all the way back. It was the only way he'd actually fit in the car, which wasn't saying a whole lot.

The language barrier made things a little awkward. Harry was content to lean on his fatigue as means to let Big Swede and Felix chat in Swedish in the front. Hermione rested her head on her seatbelt and closed her eyes. When the lights of Umeå disappeared behind them, Ron gazed out the window at the sky. Maybe because it was so cold outside, the Milky Way was completely clear.

They were an hour and a half outside Umeå when the sun finally rose. Harry's eyes hurt from it. The sun on its own was bright enough. Its light reflecting off the snow bordered on painful.

Felix turned them off Route 92 in a small town called Tallsjö. The roads hadn't been great already on their way out into the country, and the unnamed sideroad lacked in shoulders. They drove a little over a mile before the road was no longer ploughed. It only was to the right, where Harry could see a couple houses.

"This is as far as Felix can take us," Big Swede translated as Felix pulled over. "Probably means we'll have to hike an extra mile or so."

"Okay," Harry replied.

Even with his face mostly covered, the chill crept in on Harry while he, Ron, Hermione, and Big Swede layered up in their things out of Felix's boot. Harry had so many clothes on he could hardly bend to secure his boots into the snowshoes Felix brought for them.

They bid Felix off with agreement to meet here again late tomorrow afternoon. As they got moving, Harry almost wondered if they shouldn't have asked for more time. It was very slow going over multiple feet of snow. They also couldn't go so fast that they would start sweating. Sweat could very quickly turn deadly in forty-below temperatures.

The world fell silent around them. Not even wind passed through. The trees were completely hidden, some bent ninety degrees at their tops as they were weighed down by snow. The snow itself squeaked underneath Harry's snowshoes. He had to keep wiping frost out of his eyelashes.

Even if it took more time, they briefly set up their tent to take a break about halfway there. It was a wait too for the stove to warm the tent to an acceptable temperature. Harry could still see his breath while eating, but it wasn't too bad. They kept on.

"We can't be too far now," Big Swede said in the early afternoon.

Harry took Big Swede's word for it, as well as how everything he said lined up with what Dagmar's experience visiting had been. The lack of wildlife was certainly disconcerting. If Harry didn't expect to come up on a pack of wolves, he might have grown concerned that they were in danger.

He kept his head down as the four of them bowed, heart pounding in his ears.

"Your name?" a man asked in a slew of clicks, whistles, and hisses.

Harry looked up. The man that had spoken, who Dagmar had called White Wolf when she fully recounted her story to Harry, stood atop the snow as if it were solid ground.

"Harry Potter," Harry replied in Parseltongue.

"And what business do you have in Leidfall?"

"I need to speak with Helka." Harry stood up straight along with Ron, Hermione, and Big Swede. "It's about Hildegard and Dagmar Frejasdottir."

White Wolf was too far away for Harry to see the intricacies of his expression, but Harry could feel he was being studied hard.

"You aren't one of us." White Wolf's tone grew more rigid. "Only the one, and his blood has substantially diluted. I'm aware of Hildegard's situation, but why could Dagmar not come on her own behalf?"

"She died." Harry paused. "Well—maybe not. That's part of what I need to speak to Helka about. Dagmar said she told Helka about Voldemort. It turned out that Voldemort was holding Dagmar hostage somehow, which indentured Hildegard to him. Hildegard was broken out of prison, and we think Voldemort plans to use her further to try and finish the war he started against us."

White Wolf walked closer. It wasn't just an illusion that he basically floated over the snow. White Wolf still bundled up in furs, behind which eyes nearly as blue as the sky studied the lot of them.

"Follow me, then," he said.

Harry exhaled a breath in relief that they didn't just get turned around after coming all the way out here. He wasn't sure how to feel about the armed escort, but hoped to expect the same treatment Dagmar and Malfoy received. It was probably just protocol.

Not far into the trees on the other side of the clearing, the snow started to decline toward ground. Their escort stopped so that Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Big Swede could remove their snowshoes once they were no longer necessary. The rubbernecking had already begun with Leidfall's citizens.

They weren't dressed as thickly as Harry expected for the weather. White Wolf took off a layer as well. Harry considered doing the same. When he felt his face starting to grow too warm, he pulled his balaclava down. It was still cold, but not as bad.

The snow had been cleared to make paths between the white-covered domes of woven tree canopies. Harry gazed ahead at the large, gnarled tree at the city centre. What parts of it Harry could see remained bare, even its canopy.

"Wait here," White Wolf told Harry before going ahead into one of the buildings.

His escort stayed with the rest of them. Smoke rose through makeshift chimneys in the homes around them. The sun didn't reach down very well. Where the smoke rose high enough to touch a sunbeam, it curled about in the air.

Ron nudged Harry. "What's up?"

"I think he's asking the elders if we can come in," Harry said. "So far this is going exactly how Dagmar told me it did for her and Malfoy."

"That's good."

"I just hope the elders will see us."

They fell quiet again. A couple druids walked by, and Harry caught some low whispers wondering after why outsiders had come yet again. The other woman replied that it must be important if they had braved the cold weather. The last thing Harry caught as they reached the edge of earshot was them making fun of their snowshoes. Laughter cut the cold air.

White Wolf appeared again through the hanging curtains. "The Matriarch will see you, but only you. The others can wait just inside where it's warmer."

"Okay," Harry said.

They all followed White Wolf past the first curtain. It led to an antechamber. Harry started to feel uncomfortably warm. Before he had a chance to ask, White Wolf said, "If you need to undress a little, you may do so here. The elders would like to be able to see your face."

Harry wondered if he would receive the same courtesy from Helka. Dagmar had mentioned that her regalia hid her eyes from view. When White Wolf led Harry past another barrier into what seemed to be the main hall, he saw that Helka still dressed the same. A fringe of fabric covered her eyes, and she wore a headdress fit with antlers. It was probably just what she wore when dealing with outsiders, or maybe any sort of business she conducted as the city's leader.

"Thank you," Helka said as means to dismiss White Wolf.

He left, leaving Harry alone to be studied hard by the nine women sitting in front of him. The eight whose faces Harry could see were shrewd and curious. One leaned more on her chair's armrest as she rubbed her chin.

"What's your name?" Helka asked.

"Harry Potter."

"You know mine already, I've heard."

"Dagmar told me," Harry said. "I was the one that talked to Hildegard when she was still in prison. I gave her your message about saying hello."

"She's broken out, has she?"

"She was broken out, if there's much of a difference." Harry paused. "The dark wizard Voldemort has been borrowing her magic for his own means. He already had control of dementors, so he used them to clean out the prison. Do you know anything about Hildegard having a hafgufa?"

"No." Still, Helka sounded intrigued by it. "Dagmar is dead?"

"I was hoping maybe you could answer that." Harry shifted his weight from one foot to another. "I thought Hildegard was a lich, but she might have led me astray with that to try and hide the truth. If you used to be in the same clan, I thought maybe you'd know. I hope it's not too disrespectful, given what happened to your old clan and that I'm an outsider, to ask if you're a doppelgänger."

If Harry wasn't paying as close of attention as he possibly could, he might have almost missed the small smile that lifted the corners of her mouth. "I am."

Harry took a deep breath to try and slow his heart rate. He wasn't sure he did such a good job at hiding his excitement to have figured that out.

"So what about Dagmar?" Helka's smile disappeared, and Harry could hear concern in her voice. "She died, but you still believe that our magic might have kept her alive? It only works one way, from mother to daughter."

"I understand that." Harry paused again to gather his thoughts. "I'm training right now to be an Auror. In our Ministry, that means someone that goes specifically after dark wizards. Voldemort—he and I have a long history. When I was only a year old, he tried to kill me. He murdered my parents, but my mum died to save me."

Helka's chin rose. "You're the boy Dagmar spoke of."

"Yes," Harry confirmed. "Now that I'm older, Voldemort and I are still going at it. The only way this ends is if I end it. I don't know if you believe in prophecies or whatever, but one was made about me and him. Voldemort believed it enough not to take any chances. That's what got me involved. Thing is, he went quiet for a while. We learned later that he was looking for something. I found out that Hildegard had made something for him. If she's a doppelgänger, then I have a pretty solid idea what—who Voldemort's looking for. This man's in a lot of danger with no idea about it, and now Hildegard is out of prison and trying to help Voldemort find him.

"Voldemort's closest follower told Dagmar that there was a connection between the two of them." Harry tried to get back to the point he wanted to make. "She told Dagmar that if Voldemort dies, she dies. I didn't know this until it was too late. There was a bit of a skirmish when we all ended up in the same place. I hit Voldemort with a Killing Curse. I heard something like it snapped. It rebounded and hit Dagmar. In the end, everyone that died in the fight was still there except for Voldemort and Dagmar's bodies."

There was a long pause as Helka gazed at Harry. He wished he could see her eyes to know what she was thinking. Her tone was nervous. "I see."

"Does this mean that Voldemort is still alive?"

"Yes, he will be." Helka nodded. "It sounds to me from the way you describe what happened that Hildegard replaced her connection to Dagmar with Voldemort. Why would she do that?"

It sounded to Harry like Helka asked herself that more than him, but Harry believed he had the answer anyway. "Voldemort has always sought immortality. Hildegard told me she approached him first as part of a trade. She offered it to him. The swap was the collateral Bellatrix was talking about.

"I know for sure Hildegard had a son. She lied to me that he was dead, I think to avoid me looking there too closely. Thing is, the man that I think is her son was born almost two months after Voldemort tried to kill me. Voldemort's follower that I mentioned said that his phylactery was incomplete. Could that be what she meant?"

"I would be inclined to believe so. It's possible for us to have male mates and provide them a son the same way we have a daughter. Whenever my body dies and I transfer to Idhunna's, there's only one way really for her to be reborn. I just become pregnant with her. As for a male, it can be done that way if he willingly fragments his soul. The conventional method of pregnancy is necessary the first time to create the body. The soul just needs to be placed sometime prior to the father's death to function properly."

Since that all confirmed what Harry had already guessed toward, he focused more on the bit that was new to him. "Your daughter is reborn?"

"Of course."

"So. . ." Harry furrowed his brow briefly. "Dagmar too?"

"Yes," Helka replied. "I knew her as well as I did Hildegard, back before our clan was slaughtered. Dagmar won't remember any of that, but Idhunna told me after Dagmar's visit that she recognized her. She just wasn't sure how, since they'd never met—at least not during this lifetime. They were friends a long time ago. That sort of thing leaves a mark on the soul. We never forget a friend."

Harry didn't think Helka only spoke about doppelgängers when she said that. It twisted a little near Harry's heart as he thought about it—as he thought about everything. "They still say that doppelgängers sacrifice their daughters."

"I'm not surprised." Helka's mouth worked. "It's not as though an avenue ever presented itself for us to come forward and correct that. Yes, we gain eternal youth through this form of magic. Our daughters, even more so."

"Do you tell them?"

"They learn on their own after witnessing their friends become their friends' mothers. We'd never go out of our way to rob them of their childhood. Part of childhood is the feeling of immortality. To tell them they're on a clock is cruel. Once they realize they really are immortal, it becomes easier for them to accept. They will come back to their friends, their games, their creative projects. Idhunna loves to keep a diary. She writes to her future self."

"Hildegard never told Dagmar."

"I gathered that." Helka nodded. "Hildegard must have placed Voldemort's soul fragment inside of her at a very young age. If Dagmar was stuck like that, I could see Hildegard wanting to protect her from that knowledge."

"Yeah." Harry had to agree, as frustrating as it had been for him. "You never told her either, when she came here."

"It wasn't my place." Helka paused. "Dagmar said that her mother had gone to live among wizards. I assumed that perhaps Hildegard intended to leave this type of magic behind. I found it lovely to think that Dagmar had fallen in love with a mortal and Hildegard granted her the means to grow old with him. Whether that meant Dagmar eventually became a new doppelgänger along with her mate or simply lived a mortal life, either would be a splendid gift. It would have made Hildegard mortal as well, which would be for the best. Nobody wants to outlive their children."

"Right."

"As for the situation at hand. . ." Helka crossed her legs. "You were asking if Dagmar is still alive?"

Harry's heart skipped. "Could she be?"

Helka pressed her lips with a hum. "Whenever I transfer to Idhunna's body, Idhunna is still there. She's not conscious again until after being born and maturing beyond a little bundle of basic needs. I would certainly expect that Voldemort is using Dagmar's body. If he's alone in it, I would wonder why Hildegard didn't just kill him to spare Dagmar's body the disrespect."

Harry nodded, swallowing back an uncomfortable swell in his throat. "Okay."

"Tell me more about Hildegard's son," Helka requested. "You say he's with you?"

"His name is Luca. We know where he is." Harry cleared his throat. "He's safe until June. Er—around the summer solstice. He won't be at the boarding school he attends anymore after that. He'll be vulnerable."

"Indeed he will." Helka turned quiet as she remained in thought. "I can see what Hildegard perhaps intended with Voldemort. She may have taken him as a mate. If they find Luca, they can live together indefinitely. If Voldemort has goals that are detrimental to the world at large, it is indeed unfortunate."

"Hildegard told me that she meant to overshadow Voldemort," Harry picked the word carefully. "Voldemort didn't really want to rule. Hildegard figured it would naturally become her place to do that when they were in a position for it. She wanted to make a better world, where people like her didn't have to worry about things like your clan being slaughtered."

Helka nodded mindlessly, toying with her fingers in her lap. Her head was bowed.

"I don't see this ending well," she eventually said. "Things become sticky with children involved. Hildegard will be blind as she tries to find Luca and save Dagmar from her predicament. If your interest lies in protecting Luca, I'm unsure that you're prepared to deal with the full weight that Hildegard could bring down upon you."

"What do you mean?"

"Hildegard is powerful." Helka lifted her chin again. "Voldemort brought her to her knees by using Dagmar against her, but do not let that fool you. If Hildegard wants something, especially if that something is her children, you are ill-advised to get in the way. I empathize that she wants Dagmar and Luca. No mother should lose her children. The only way for Hildegard to remove Voldemort's soul from Dagmar's body is with his full, informed consent."

"Which Voldemort won't give until they find Luca." Harry hazarded a guess.

Helka rubbed her mouth. "In the gap between transferring Voldemort over to Luca's body, Hildegard may intend to shatter him. It's so hard to say. Hildegard might want to start over with Luca, which she can only do if Voldemort remains alive. It might not even matter what she wants. If Voldemort is as concerned about his mortality as you say he is, he will have thought far enough ahead to prepare for this. He sounds like the type to have one of his followers kill Dagmar if Hildegard tries anything outside of their original agreement."

"He is the type." Harry took a break from the conversation to mull everything over. As he did, his heart sunk anew. Although his mouth went dry, he felt compelled to swallow. "This sounds like a lose-lose no matter what."

"Not for Hildegard." Helka exhaled through her nose. "If Hildegard cooperates fully with Voldemort, she will have both of her children back."

As much as Harry wished Hildegard could have that, the situation didn't exist in a vacuum. If she got what she wanted, it would come at the expense of so many others. Voldemort would continue to push on his goals for domination. Everybody that cared for Luca would lose him as he was. Parasca would have no familial legacy. Her parents would lose the only part that remained of her other than things like photos and her Order of Merlin.

More people—and the wizarding world as a whole—benefitted from things being the way they currently were. Harry had made a quiet promise to Malfoy that if Dagmar could be saved, he'd do everything in his power to make that happen. Would Malfoy want it at expense of Luca, though? Would Dagmar? Luca wasn't just her friend anymore. He was her brother.

"I don't know what to do," Harry finally said. "It's one or the other. How do you make that choice?"

Helka studied Harry. "You don't think Voldemort would give his consent otherwise to be removed from Dagmar's body?"

Harry could almost laugh, the idea was so ridiculous. "No."

"Would you mind stepping out for a moment?"

"Er—sure." Harry blinked. "Just where I came in, or. . .?"

Helka nodded. "I'd like a private word with the rest of the elders."

"Okay."

Harry headed back for the exit. White Wolf stood on the other side with Ron, Hermione, and Big Swede. Ron and Hermione both raised their eyebrows at Harry expectantly. The three of them drifted away from Big Swede with an awkward apology, which he dismissed with a good-natured wave of his hand.

"We're not done talking yet," Harry told them. "She wanted to talk alone to the others in there. Just a forewarning. Things don't look good."

Hermione's face fell slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Hildegard is a doppelgänger." Harry summarized the conversation for now. "Based on everything we have, Dagmar is still alive. It's going to come down to a choice. I don't know that both Dagmar and Luca can survive."

Eyes shining, Hermione held her hand against her mouth. "Voldemort's in her body, then?"

"Helka figures so." Harry rubbed the side of his nose, tired. "Doppelgängers are different than we thought. It isn't a different daughter every generation. It's the same one. So Dagmar is probably just about as old as Hildegard. That means Luca can be reborn too. If Hildegard can find him, then Dagmar can have her body back. Helka says that Voldemort's soul can only be removed from her with his consent. So Dagmar would get her body back, Voldemort gets Luca's body, and then Hildegard can probably start over again with Bjorn. It's a total win for her and Voldemort, but not for anyone else. I don't think Dagmar would feel good about having her friend—her brother—be sacrificed for her ability to live. People like Malfoy, Zabini. . .they won't like it. Luca's family won't. His grandparents just lost their daughter. Luca is all they have left of Parasca."

Ron stared at the ground, brow furrowed and arms crossed. "So what do we do, then?"

"Not sure at the moment." Harry sighed. "I'm seriously concerned that Voldemort might get exactly what he wants. He doesn't care who lives or dies other than himself, but he knows we do. He doesn't need to stop and think about things. He just needs to find Luca."

Harry was so tired of Voldemort running circles around them like this. That Voldemort didn't care who got hurt during his pursuit was very sadly an advantage. He had to know that, even if Harry, Dumbledore, or anyone else figured this out, they'd be paralyzed. Stop Voldemort, and Dagmar's gone. Let him have what he wants, and say goodbye to so many more. What was the value of one life? Was Harry willing to let Dagmar go for the sake of the rest of the wizarding world? Was it his right to make that call? Was there really no middle ground?

Hermione looked up first when rustling sounded at the curtain separating them from where Helka and the elders all were. Helka appeared. She'd removed her headdress and the fringe covering her eyes. She regarded the three of them.

"I have a proposition for you, if you're interested," Helka said when she focused her attention on Harry. "This is a very dynamic situation. If Voldemort has a source of information on druidic magic—if he has steeped himself in it—then you ought to have the same thing. We all agree it would be best that I go with you."

Harry's eyes widened by their own volition. "You would do that?"

"We don't tend to. . ." Helka trailed off as she considered her words. "Our magic is not meant to be used for the purpose of one person's attempt to wreak havoc on so many others. Given my history with Hildegard, there isn't really anybody else better suited to bring the balance back."

"I don't know what we should do, is the thing."

"Tove made a suggestion that might put the situation on ice, so to speak." Helka glanced back toward the elder hall. "Capture Voldemort. Easier said than done, I'm sure, but it's better than giving him free reign to do whatever he pleases. Isn't it?"

Harry studied her. "I guess it would be."

"Will you let me come with you, then?"

Harry still hesitated. Helka looked antsy too, and Harry had a gut feeling it wasn't just about the situation. It also wasn't just because she'd volunteered to leave Leidfall for what might be the first time in nearly two-hundred years.

"Why do you trust me?" Harry asked. "Stupid thing to ask considering that I need exactly what you're offering, but I feel like there's something you've left out."

Helka blinked, lips pressed. Her gaze passed over to where White Wolf and Big Swede quietly stood, and then she glanced again behind her. She looked at Harry, who refused to say anything. He felt that silence on his part was the best way to get whatever Helka might be withholding.

She gestured at Harry to follow her away from Ron and Hermione. He did, curious what she might need to say that could be construed even with a language barrier. Helka took an uncertain breath before lowering her voice to a bare whisper. "This is a little more dire than you've yet realized."

"How?"

"I kept this mostly to myself, and I would appreciate it if you did the same among your own people. You understand now that I knew both Hildegard and Dagmar back when we still shared a clan?"

Harry nodded.

"Although many winters have separated now from then, I haven't forgotten any of my clan members' faces. I still see the carnage in my dreams sometimes." Helka hesitated again. "That said, it wasn't Dagmar that came to visit me."

"What do you mean?"

"That wasn't who I knew to be Dagmar. Her name, yes. Her story, yes, since she recognized Aslaug as the name of her maternal aunt."

Harry furrowed his brow. "Are you saying Hildegard stole someone else's identity, or something? Why?"

"Probably because she was ashamed and horrified about what came of everyone she was supposed to be responsible for. It was Frigg who came here to see me."

"Oh." Harry's stomach took a nasty flop.

"You understand, right?"

"So we're dealing with a literal god."

"Well." Helka gave a little shrug. "That's how mortals interpret such longevity and magic. I suppose to you that's a distinction without a difference. All you really need to know is that she's powerful. Her name doesn't matter other than what relation I have to her. We came to this realm together, stranded when we couldn't find the gateway back. I'm familiar enough with her magical practices that I learned them for myself over time. My name is nearly as well-known as hers, along with Idhunna's. Same as Heimdall's. He thought he recognized her, but wasn't sure until I confirmed it."

Helka pointed with her jaw over at White Wolf. Harry looked back over his shoulder, but not long enough to edge over into a stare. "I don't think I ever heard yours."

That little smile came up on Helka again. Because she'd worn that fringe earlier, Harry missed how much it showed in her eyes. It turned impish as Helka turned her and Harry so that she could put her back more to where everyone else stood. As Harry regarded her, he felt as though a veil lifted on an illusion spell. With it, Helka's left eye turned from blue to black, the darkness encompassing not only her iris but the sclera as well. Like a creeping sickness, that side of her face sunk into something skeletal. When Harry blinked, his lungs seizing with rapid fear, he found himself looking at a normal face again.

"Hel might sound more familiar," Helka said. "Queen of the realm of the underworld, at your service. Perhaps that's not so much a jest when you happened to visit Leidfall during the time of year it most resembles Helheim. And I'm sure the road here was long."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. He didn't know the mythology well enough to say what exactly he was agreeing to, though.

"Will you have me, then?" Helka asked. "And will you keep all that to yourself? Mortals tend to get a little funny with names they recognize. You might be different. People probably act funny about your name after you survived the Killing Curse, don't they? But you don't seem the type to think it really made you all that special."

It was truer than Harry wanted to admit. Even though he didn't react, Helka seemed to understand.

"We could use you," he said. "We could use all the help we can get."