Chasing the Storm

by HSVH

With Hogwarts behind them, Harry's Auror training kicks off, and Draco and Dagmar start their new life in Norway. While Harry races Voldemort to whatever he's seeking, Narcissa is held captive in the heart of the answer. The webs of past and present begin to tangle and interweave. What hasn't changed is that everybody has secrets—some that end up costing more than others.

1. The First Days

The Wizards, Gods, and Doppelgängers Series:

1. Schism
2. Reign Without a Crown
3. Chasing the Storm
4. Black Halo
5. Equilibrium

---

Chapter 1: The First Days of the Rest of Their Lives

---

"Watch where you're aiming that thing."

Draco laughed as Dagmar shifted more to the side. He struggled to pop a cork from a wine bottle. A drink to celebrate the end of their time at Hogwarts came to mind late in the day they returned to Malfoy Manor, but seemed obvious once it did.

The cork came out with no broken windows or injuries. Dagmar held out the glasses they'd collected from the dining room and scoffed as Draco topped them nearly to the rim. He set the bottle down on his desk and took the glass Dagmar handed him.

"Cheers," Draco said.

Clinking their glasses together was dangerous with how full they were. They did so carefully before taking a sip. Draco was hard-pressed to keep his eyes off Dagmar, although this was far from a new phenomenon today. Everything from the way loose, blonde hairs framed her face to how the neck of her shirt sat low enough for a peek at her collarbone enthralled him. They hadn't really managed to separate themselves since coming home, and Draco couldn't see it happening anytime soon.

Draco's heart fluttered anew as Dagmar stepped closer. Her hair was still damp from the shower they'd taken together. With his nose against her head, Draco inhaled slowly and deeply.

"I'm still trying to digest that we're never going back," Dagmar said. "I'm going to miss Hogwarts."

"Me too. It was just starting to feel good there, the last year."

"Makes me wish we'd found each other sooner, but oh well." Dagmar nuzzled him. "I'm just happy we did."

"Have you realized it's going to be a year tomorrow all this started?"

Dagmar lifted her head. "Is it?"

"Maybe even a year yesterday, actually." Draco sipped his wine. "It was the last day of exams I pulled you aside and told you you'd be coming here with me."

"Oh ja, I remember how sympathetic you were to my situation."

If Dagmar wasn't smiling in jest, Draco would worry she held it against him. He felt bad anyway, for he knew he'd upset Dagmar by telling her about her manor raid. He then left her to deal with it all on her own. He might have stuck around had they been at all close, but Draco was realistic too about how he used to be. It wasn't likely.

"What was that thing you said the day we went for a walk down the road and talked about our arrangement?" Draco asked. "Changed behaviour is the best apology?"

"You certainly managed that." Dagmar slipped an arm around Draco's waist. "I think everybody felt it this year. Even Potter, and that's saying something."

"Maybe." Draco shrugged. "You heard what his house elf said about me when we met Auntie Andie and Uncle Ted. 'Master doesn't like him. Master doesn't trust him'."

"Things have changed since then, haven't they?" Dagmar asked. "You two seem to get on all right. You talk, at least."

"I don't know that it means he trusts me, but that's all right." Draco didn't feel any loss from it. "I get it, I guess. If I can change my mind once about things, I could a second time too. Still takes time to develop that kind of trust."

Dagmar rubbed his shoulder. "Potter's going to be an Auror too. I think to be an Auror you have to be paranoid about everything."

"Potter's perfect, then."

The two of them snorted before taking another sip of their wine. Dagmar grinned afterward and led Draco back to the bed with her free hand. Draco wasn't sure he'd be able to go again quite yet. When Dagmar laid down and set her wine glass up on the windowsill, she seemed more keen on some lazy snogging. She was content to limit her touch to Draco's face, neck, and shoulders.

"It's weird to think a year ago I was laying over in the other room, stressing out about my manor," Dagmar told him after they settled. "I didn't sleep a whole lot that night. Didn't help I was in a strange place, either."

"It was the next day my mum told me about our arrangement." Draco paused. "Did I ever tell you she gave me rings?"

"You might have mentioned it."

"I know for sure I never showed them to you. Is that something you're interested in seeing?"

Dagmar lit up. "Definitely."

They'd remained in Draco's bedside table. After how he and Dagmar had left last summer, Draco wished later on he'd packed them. They didn't matter that much to him, anyway. Draco intended to marry Dagmar regardless, and he could certainly afford rings on his own. The only reason Draco would even care enough now to bother with these ones was for his mum. Draco had turned his back on a lot of family traditions in the last year. Since this one worked for him, he would honour it.

Dagmar tucked some loose hair behind her ear, smiling eagerly as Draco budged back over on the bed. He hadn't taken much more than a glance at Dagmar's ring after his mum gave them to him, but he could see why Dagmar's eyes widened. It was quite pretty with its platinum white band and weaving pattern. Inside each weave was a black diamond. An emerald was set in the centre. Draco hadn't noticed before, but the first piece with just black diamonds was an entirely separate ring.

"Can I try them on?" Dagmar asked.

"Go for it."

Dagmar pulled them out of the box and slipped them onto her left ring finger. She made a small sound in her throat. "They're a little big."

"Good to know. We'll get them resized."

Even if they were loose enough to turn on their own on Dagmar's finger, she still studied the set fondly.

"So. . ." Draco pulled Dagmar's gaze up. "We've sort of talked about when we want to get married. When do you want to get engaged, though?"

Dagmar pursed her lips, thinking. "I'm a little torn. If we know we're going to wind up married anyway, there's no point in waiting. We've been together for almost a year, and I think I've gotten a good sense of who you are as a person. At the same time, it's only been a year. We haven't even properly lived together yet."

"You want to do that for a little while first?"

Dagmar rested a hand on his knee. "What do you think?"

Draco touched the back of his head to the headboard. "I'm more in the first camp. I don't really see the point in waiting because we both know where we're going to wind up. We'll probably have disagreements when we're living together, but I seriously doubt we wouldn't solve them. We've settled bigger things than arguing about who left socks on the floor."

"We haven't really had any major arguments yet," Dagmar replied.

"We've been through some big stuff together. You've made it clear to me you're there when I need you. I'd like to think I've done the same."

"Ja, you have," Dagmar reassured him with a squeeze of his knee. "I don't know, I think it's just personal preference. I'm not in any rush because I know where we'll wind up. I'd feel more comfortable being engaged with more life experience under our belts."

"I want more experience before we're married, but I don't know that it matters with this. Aren't we pretty much unofficially engaged? We have been for nearly a year. We didn't agree to go together to see what happens. We agreed to one day be married."

"We never had to go through with it if we didn't want to," Dagmar replied. "If we're pretty much already engaged, then why do we need to rush into a real one?"

Draco pressed his lips together, air washing down over his chin as he exhaled. He took a minute to think, hiding emerging frustration behind a drink from his wine.

"I guess we don't have to," he said. "I'd just like to. After the last year, I'm ready to make the commitment. I want to feel like you are too."

"Do I have to have a ring on my finger for it to be clear I'm committed?"

"No," Draco replied. "I'd just like it."

Draco's mood slipped, the more he thought about it. He always had to wait for what they both knew they were eventually going to have. He understood it more when it came to things like their first kiss or the first time they had sex, but just once Draco didn't want to be held at arm's length.

"If it's important to you, then we can," Dagmar said. "I don't care either way."

"I want you to care." Draco didn't bother to hide how glum it left him. "I don't want you to say 'let's do it' if you don't really want to."

"I want to. I thought we were just talking about when."

"And you want me to wait. Again."

When Dagmar didn't reply, Draco looked over at her. She didn't look impressed.

"I don't want to pressure you," he said. "It's just disappointing."

"So now if I say yes, that's what you think?" Dagmar asked. "That I'm only saying so because you talked me into it?"

Draco shrugged. "You said you don't care."

"I think you're taking that the wrong way." Dagmar pressed up closer to his side. "You make as good of points as I do. We pretty much already are engaged. We can settle whatever issues come up just as well as if we're only going together. We've tested the waters. I'm ready to commit."

"I do think we should live together for a while before we actually get married," Draco conceded on his part. "I'm good with a longer engagement. If my mum came home tomorrow, I wouldn't say we should start putting out invitations."

Dagmar chuckled before catching his lips with her own. "I'm good with that too."

Draco's frustration bled out of him with the kiss, but he still wasn't completely sure this had gone in his favour. He wanted Dagmar to be just as enthusiastic about getting engaged. He didn't want it to just seem like a reasonable option.

Dagmar's gaze softened as she studied him. "All right?"

"I don't know," Draco replied. "I still kinda feel like you're only agreeing to make me happy. You don't seem as into it."

"Maybe because it's not exactly a new idea." Dagmar reached for her wine on the windowsill before Heimdall had a chance to knock it over. He'd just jumped up and was eyeing the glass curiously. "I know it's going to happen eventually, and we've talked about getting married. We're about to live together and start the careers we've been working toward, so it's not like we don't have anything else to look forward to. I am excited. This just isn't an emotional discussion for me. It's not like you actually proposed and we're debating it afterward."

"You aren't only agreeing with me because you don't want to fight about it?"

"No, although I do think it's not worth fighting you on," Dagmar said. "If it doesn't make a difference to me but it does to you, you should have your way. That's the logical part of it. The emotional part comes when it's actually happening."

Draco could understand that. He tried to imagine what words might come out of his mouth when he got down on one knee—how Dagmar might react—and already felt a glimmer of nerves alongside exhilaration.

"I guess I'm just. . ." Draco shrugged. "It was a while ago now, but it sucked to have to wait to be open about our relationship at school. I don't know if it's just residual, or what."

"I've made you wait for a lot," Dagmar acknowledged. "This won't be one of them. It isn't like this is something either of us have experience on, so there's no need for one to catch up. There wouldn't be any potential social backlash. It's not like I'm not ready, or like I haven't already made that commitment to you. Someday in the next few years, you'll be my husband. I'll be a Malfoy."

Draco softened at that. For all his anticipation of their eventual nuptials, he'd yet really to think about them becoming the next generation of Mr and Mrs Malfoy.

Dagmar sipped her wine again, idly watching Heimdall as he chattered at a bird sitting on the balcony rail. "I was actually thinking about changing my last name in the spring, you know."

Draco's stomach pleasantly flipped. "To Malfoy, or. . .?"

"I was going to ask if you'd mind." Dagmar looked back at him. "After my dad died and it came out he was a Death Eater, I didn't want to move to Norway as a Ramstad. It might not reflect well on me if that's the reputation that name has in Bergen. I decided to hold off after everything Dumbledore told us. If my dad isn't actually my biological father, I don't want to sever that tie quite yet. I want to honour him by it for a little while longer."

Draco put an arm around Dagmar as familiar mistiness rose in her eyes. She pushed it back with a strong blink and cleared her throat.

"That's what I was thinking," she said. "I wasn't sure you'd be into the idea anyway, since it's not a very romantic reason to take your name."

"I wouldn't have minded." Draco thought it might have even been fun to leave it as a mystery for the rest of the school as to whether or not they'd tied the knot over Easter holidays. It would've been preferable for people to talk about rather than their parents.

"I think now I'd like to wait until we're married." Dagmar nuzzled Draco's shoulder. "I want it to be romantic, not useful."

Draco's stomach fluttered again. He couldn't help but smile as he rested his cheek against the top of Dagmar's head. "Okay."

"As for when we get engaged. . ." Dagmar rubbed his forearm, "I'll leave it up to you. I hope I'm not asking too much if I want the rings resized before that. I'd like to be able to wear the engagement ring right away."

"This is probably a stupid question, but which is which?" Draco asked. "I didn't realize there was two."

"I wear the one without the emerald while we're engaged, and then whoever officiates the wedding puts them together during the ceremony's ring exchange." Dagmar nudged Draco lightly. "If you want to be really traditional, I probably shouldn't see the actual wedding ring until the day. The engagement one, not until you pop the question."

"How will I know if they got resized properly if you don't try it on again afterward?"

"I'll give you one of my rings to take to the jeweller. They'll match it."

"Okay."

"How's yours? Does it fit all right?"

Draco fetched the box from where it got lost in a fold of the comforter. He put the ring on. "I think so."

"Might as well double-check when you go to the jeweller, just to be safe. It's definitely not something you want to lose. Are they family heirlooms?"

"My great-grandparents Pollux and Irma wore them."

Dagmar continued playing with hers. "What were they like? Did you know them?"

"Didn't know my great-grandma." Draco shook his head. "She died a few years before I was born. My great-grandpa died when I was ten. You wouldn't have liked him."

"No?" Dagmar looked up.

"You know that woman in the portrait at Potter's house? She was their daughter. I'm sure it's no stretch of the imagination where she picked up all that stuff she was saying."

Dagmar grimaced. "Not really."

When Dagmar looked back down at her ring, Draco could see her thinking about it differently. He got her attention again with a brush of her knee.

"Maybe we're being traditional for a lot of things, but some things will die with us," he told her. "There's nobody left in my generation of the Black family that cares about blood purity."

"Who all is there?"

"Just me and Tonks," Draco said. "None of the other purebloods our age care anymore either. The only one I'd be up in the air about is Theo, but I don't think he does. His tantrum about the Quidditch team might have been the death throes."

"Hard to say." Dagmar shrugged. "Other than that, I would've never thought he cared in the first place. He never talked about it."

"No." Even when Draco talked to him about Potter outing their fathers as Death Eaters, it wasn't much a conversation about blood purity as just being embarrassed. "I'll have to ask him so I can find out more about his dad."

"Any ideas yet how to approach that?"

"Not really. I'm sure it'll come to me soon enough."

Because of how badly things went with the Ramstads, Dumbledore wanted them to be extra cautious before approaching Mr Nott. Dumbledore instructed Draco to open a conversation with Theo if it naturally arose before the end of the school year. It never did, and now Draco wasn't sure what would happen with that as Theo and Daphne planned half a year of travel abroad.

Nobody at the last Order meeting had seemed too disappointed it hadn't happened. When it came to Magnus Norheim, Mr Nott wasn't involved in that particular circle. It was doubtful he could really help. The only one left they knew of was Aunt Bella, and she was as unlikely to help as You-Know-Who himself.

"At least for now, things are quiet," Dagmar said. "Dumbledore might be right that Voldemort gives up for a while on finding Norheim. Since Potter isn't under Dumbledore's protection at Hogwarts anymore, he might focus on him again."

"Maybe."

Draco wasn't too concerned about it at the moment. It was hard to be when there was so much else to be excited about. Dagmar seemed just as content leaving the topic behind as Draco nuzzled his nose in the crook of her neck. Draco inhaled deeply, closing his eyes as Dagmar's natural scent filled his lungs. The corners of his mouth pulled up when she caressed his cheek.

"Get me one of your rings, anyway." Draco steered them back to that. "I probably won't worry about it until we're in Bergen. I'd rather not make a special trip to Diagon Alley to pick them up, if I can avoid it."

"Okay."

"Maybe I ought to put the rings away," Draco said. "I'll have to pack them in a special place so they don't get lost."

Dagmar made a sound of disappointment and admired her rings again. "Give me just a few more minutes."

---

After the first day home, a weird restlessness rose in Dagmar. The last month had been a whirlwind of her and Draco getting the next part of their lives in order. There felt like a lot to do on this side of the last day at Hogwarts. There wasn't time to rest.

Draco emptied out his school trunk the morning after they got home, and Dagmar helped him begin to pack what he considered essential. His parents were keepers of the Malfoy and Black family bibles, and tucked within the Black one was Draco's pedigree of birth. It was sealed with both family crests and signed by Mr Malfoy and Cygnus Black, Draco's maternal grandfather. The findings ended up distracting Dagmar and Draco.

"I just realized I never had to send anything like this to Jotunheimen to prove who I was," Draco said as he read over the pedigree.

"Our professors vouching for us was good enough, I guess." Dagmar flipped through the Black family bible. "I bet their words would mean more to prospective employers than family members. Less chance of things being forged if it comes from an established institution."

"And I guess our employers probably care more about our academic standing than how we got here in the first place."

"Lucky me, for that." Dagmar's stomach flipped with a sudden thought. "I don't even know where I was born. How would I have ever proven who I am? For all I know, I wasn't even born in Norway."

"There isn't a family bible at your manor?"

"I didn't see one when I was going through the drawing room. I would've seen it long ago in either of the libraries." Dagmar ran a hand mindlessly over her fuzzy plait. "I have no hopes of finding my mum's. I'm betting the Ramstad one is in Oslo."

"With your uncle, or. . .?"

"Or maybe my aunt Agneta," Dagmar said. "She's the oldest between her, Uncle Håkon, and Dad."

Draco lifted up some of the family bible pages to slip his pedigree back in. "You don't have cousins, do you?"

"Three of them, ja. I honestly don't even know if I remember the two older ones' names, but Påske is our age."

"Man or woman?"

Dagmar chuckled. "Man."

"When did you want to meet up with them?" Draco asked. "We should have time once we figure out if we're moving to the place Janne's showing us tomorrow. It's still three weeks until work orientation."

"I could at least give Uncle Håkon an update when we know where we'll be living," Dagmar said. "He seemed excited when I told him we'd be moving to Norway."

Dagmar was a little nervous about seeing her dad's family. When she thought deeply on her lacking relationship with the rest of the Ramstads, she wondered why that was. It felt like a large bump to overcome in rekindling contact with them. Dagmar hoped it wasn't somehow her fault. It might be that if Dagmar wasn't a blood relative, they didn't like her dad taking in someone else's child rather than having his own. They didn't seem like those kind of people, but Dagmar couldn't help but worry she might end up a black sheep regardless of how meeting them went. It sounded like her dad had landed himself in that position because of his affiliation with Voldemort.

Her nerves about it waned as she and Draco geared up the next day to head off to Bergen. Fru Dyrdahl was meeting them mid-afternoon at Den Sultne Jotunn. Dagmar arrived first through the fireplace. She spotted Fru Dyrdahl out in the inn lobby, leaned back against the front desk while chatting with Sigrid. She and Sigrid both beamed when they spotted Dagmar and Draco.

"I hear you're moving back!" Sigrid greeted them with. "That's exciting."

"Ja, you'll be seeing more of us," Dagmar replied.

The four of them carried on a little bit in conversation, Sigrid as impressed as Fru Dyrdahl had been at Draco's earnest attempt at Norwegian. He was a little clumsy to start, but eventually caught the flow of it.

"We'd better let you get back to work," Fru Dyrdahl told Sigrid with a wink. "Nice chat."

"Always."

Fru Dyrdahl put a hand briefly on each of Dagmar and Draco's upper arms. "We can get there through the fireplace today. I opened it up to receive guests."

She went first, and Draco followed behind to Dyrdahl Cottage. Dagmar went next. She stepped out of the corner fireplace when she saw Fru Dyrdahl and Draco. They stood together in a tall living room with a dark wooden floor and light log walls.

". . .came up on the weekend to clean it," Fru Dyrdahl was saying, but she trailed off when she spotted Dagmar. "Feel familiar at all?"

Dagmar looked around. It wasn't currently furnished, so it appeared different from when she was here as a child. She remembered the open living room and dining room overlooked by the second storey loft. When Dagmar looked to the right out the front windows, her memory really started to work.

The bay spread out below. They were at high enough altitude to see some of the inlets leading to the North Sea. The majority of Bergen was to the left, although skimmed along the mountain below and further up the coastline.

"You weren't joking about a view," Draco said as he ambled closer to the window, arms folded.

"I remember all the lights at night." Dagmar looked south where the mountains Lyderhorn, Damsgårdfjellet, and Løvstakken were. "I always tried to see our house from here, even though it was on the other side of Damsgårdfjellet."

"You might remember downstairs more." Fru Dyrdahl beamed. "That's where we hosted our parties."

Dagmar stood beside Draco, equally drawn to the sight of the busy city below. They couldn't see the people, but it swarmed with activity nonetheless. Muggle cars moved about on the roads, and ships did their never-ending work on the waters. Dagmar glanced at Draco and then smiled. He had a placid one on his face, his eyes darting. He was already sold on the location, and they hadn't even seen the rest of the cottage.

Fru Dyrdahl gave them the tour when Draco was ready to tear himself away from the view. The kitchen was a decent size with an island fit to seat five. The back of the ground floor consisted of an office with an attached owlery, a bathroom, and two bedrooms ("Only Ingrid was still at home when we bought this place, so we used the bigger one as a guest room"). Fru Dyrdahl led them up to the first floor, where the loft was fit with a small library ("I have the books boxed up in storage, but I'll bring them back"). The only door at the top of the stairs led into the master suite ("I'd recommend warding spells for insects if you want to leave the balcony doors open at night to cool off"). They headed down next to the lowest floor, and Dagmar's memory worked again when they came out by a stocked bar among a large recreation room.

"I remember this now." Over by the bathroom, Dagmar opened the closet under the stairs. "When all us kids were playing hide-and-seek, I hid in an empty box in here. I thought I was so bloody clever."

Fru Dyrdahl laughed before they carried on out the sliding doors. The deck on this level stuck out further than the ground floor's and had stairs leading back up. They moved around the top deck to the garden side of the cottage.

"I'll show you around the grounds," Fru Dyrdahl offered. "The garden didn't see any love this last year, but the soil is still rich. Roar offered to come by and help get it ready if you wanted to plant garlic in autumn. You'll only have to go one season without, and there's less work to do come spring."

"Okay." Dagmar smiled from embarrassment as they headed down the steps toward the garden, greenhouse, and shed. "Neither of us really knows how to do any of that."

"Oh, Roar would be happy to show you," Fru Dyrdahl walked briefly backward in front of them. "Or me, although I have a feeling he might insist. You're overthinking it if you were taught Herbology at Hogwarts. Magical plants are so much more fickle than edible ones. You'll do just fine."

Dagmar hoped that was the case, since she was uncomfortable to ask such a thing and even to receive it if Roar offered. She would only be meeting him for the first time later today. Dagmar had to acknowledge that she and Draco might need some guidance as they transitioned into adult living. It was less embarrassing to be open about their limitations now than it was to not be able to host company because they had never cooked before. Bringing a couple house elves up from Britain would break a massive cultural taboo. Dagmar and Draco didn't have their parents anymore (not that Dagmar suspected the Malfoys knew much about such things), so they would have to swallow their pride for a little while as they caught up to speed.

The garden was big, about twice the size of the greenhouse. Attached to the greenhouse was a shed that had a wood stove and a locked door leading into storage. Dagmar didn't have anything she could think to put in there, although she imagined it was where Draco's brooms would go if he didn't take them to the reserve for work.

"There's a path through there that leads to the Muggle hiking trails in the area," Fru Dyrdahl pointed out as they exited the stuffy, empty greenhouse. There's a little lake that's good for swimming, and it's less than an hour's walk to the restaurant over on Fløyen. Other than that, it's pretty cut off from the city up here. You'll have to floo in to Den Sultne Jotunn, or apparate if you have your licenses."

"We do." Draco nodded. "That's fine. My family's manor in Britain is the same way. More cut off, actually."

Endeared by his excitement, Dagmar slipped a hand into one of Draco's. She smiled at him fondly when he looked at her.

"That's why Ingrid and Roar ultimately decided to move, so I thought it worth pointing out before you commit to anything." Fru Dyrdahl idly swatted at a fly as they all stood together in the shade. "That and the local forest troll population has gotten a little worse in the last five years or so. This area is designated for them, so you can't really do anything about it."

"How bad?" Dagmar asked. "We don't have kids obviously, but we do have a cat."

"That's good, actually." Fru Dyrdahl chuckled. "From my experience, cats kept the trolls away. Ingrid and Roar have a couple, but they didn't want to risk it in the end. Ragna kept coming back to the cottage with no cheese left in her pockets, and she kept forgetting to take bells with her."

Dagmar wrinkled her nose. "I can't blame them for wanting to leave, then."

"I think that's pretty much the only problem with the place." Fru Dyrdahl folded her arms as she thought. "If you like living out in the country, then I suppose the things that come with that aren't exactly faults. I might recommend getting a second cat if yours is overwhelmed by the trolls and garden gnomes. They'll be bad right now since the garden hasn't been tended, but there's at least plenty to do for that."

Fru Dyrdahl walked over to the edge of the garden, where a mound of what looked like dirt stuck out of the soil. She plucked it out like a potato, revealing a round little body with swinging arms and kicking legs ("kom deg av!" it said in a gruff little voice). With about as much effort as lobbing a rock, Fru Dyrdahl sent it off toward the edge of the woods. It hit the ground with an oof before picking itself up and running off for the tree line.

"The fight never really ends," Fru Dyrdahl said. "Your cat will love chasing them, though."

"Ja, he will," Dagmar said with a laugh. "He definitely won't be bored here."

Some of Fru Dyrdahl's hair caught silver in the light. "That's about everything to see, anyway. If you two want, I can give you some time here alone to explore for yourself. Dinner's at half-five, but Roar will be there with the girls an hour before. Filip and Ingrid aren't off work until five."

"Sure," Dagmar said. "We'll just floo in through Den Sultne Jotunn?"

With Fru Dyrdahl's agreement, she disapparated with a small pop. The new lack of conversation made Dagmar realize just how quiet the area was. Sounds from the city itself didn't reach up here. A gentle wind passed through the trees, turning the leaves to static.

"What do you think?" Dagmar asked Draco.

"I'm having a hard time finding anything wrong with it," he replied. "I can easily see us here."

"Me too." Dagmar squeezed his hand, excitement welling up again until an age-old anxiety just as quickly deflated it. "I meant to ask Fru Dyrdahl what she was thinking about asking us to pay for each month. And we'll have to furnish it."

"That's okay, though." Draco shrugged and pulled her gently back toward the cottage's garden door. "It's all stuff we'd have to buy eventually."

"Ja."

"You can't seriously be concerned about money," Draco told her. "Even our salaries will be more than enough."

Dagmar nodded at the reminder. She was trying not to get hung up on it since moving was expensive. She would only buy most things once.

"We don't have to fill the whole house right away." Draco led them back into the cottage. "We'll just start with the essentials. Bedroom, kitchen, maybe a couple places to sit."

"Okay." Dagmar sighed to herself as she headed into the kitchen. "Sorry, just bear with me. I won't let us go without, and I know we have enough to cover everything comfortably. I'm just being silly about it."

"You're not being silly." Draco opened the ice box for a look. "It's a lot of new stuff at once and a lot more money than we've ever spent. We haven't had the chance yet to get a feel for money coming in versus going out."

"I guess." Dagmar idly flipped through the cupboards. "Feel free to tell me if I'm ever being ridiculous."

"You might feel better once we open up bank accounts here and put something in them," Draco said.

"It's just so silly. I'm literally worth almost a quarter million galleons and I'm fussing about a hundred or two. I don't even have anyone to leave my family estate to, so what would it matter if I blew the whole thing?"

"How much you have doesn't really change the way you think about it," Draco replied. "If it helps, we'll keep a ledger and a close eye on everything. You can see how it moves."

Draco had mentioned doing that the last time they talked about money. Dagmar invited herself into Draco's arms and nodded against his shoulder.

Draco rubbed her back. "That said, I wouldn't mind starting a list. It might also help you feel better if we price everything out, set a budget, and then just keep to that as we slowly make the place ours."

Dagmar grinned, unable to help it. "Listen to you, so smart about finances."

"Don't have much of a choice since my mum trusted me with the estate." Draco shrugged. "Doesn't hurt to have a best mate working for Gringotts either."

"Blaise used to say he was going to be an advocate." Dagmar stood up straighter so she could see Draco's face. "Must have changed his mind. He likes numbers, so I guess he'll still enjoy it."

"I'm sure playing with other people's money is more fun than writing wills and stuff."

Dagmar chuckled before sneaking in a kiss. She stroked Draco's cheek afterward with her thumb, admiring everything about him from the slightly burned tip of his nose to how his hair naturally waved and fell. She ended up stuck on his eyes, their grey colour seeming to soften along with the rest of his expression.

"It makes me feel better that you're being responsible," Dagmar said. "If you say we need to spend something, I don't have to wonder if it's true."

"I'm not going to rule out I might buy something silly with my own spending money." Draco winked at her. "Essentials come first, though."

His gaze darted downward, introducing a tilt to Dagmar's head as she studied him. She gave him time to find the words for what he wanted to say.

"Mr Clayton mentioned something to me when I saw him the second time on the Easter holidays," Draco said. "I brushed it off because I didn't think we'd need it. When I think about it now, it might make you feel better about money."

"What's that?"

"A prenup." Draco shifted on his feet. "Both of us have a lot of wealth to our names right now. Thing is, mine's only temporary until my mum gets back. The last thing I'd want you to worry about after we get married is that I'd take half of yours if we ever got divorced. Not that I think we would, of course."

"Hm." Dagmar hadn't thought about it. "How does it work, exactly?"

"However we want it to." Draco shrugged. "Mr Clayton said we declare all our assets, and then we walk away with what we came in with if we ever get a divorce. What we saved up after we got married is what gets looked at to split. We already decided to keep our money separate, so I think it just goes along with that. If we ever had to split a house and stuff, it would be really easy just to divide the value down the middle. Our bank accounts just stay out of it because that's our own."

Dagmar nodded slowly. "Not that I think we'd ever get divorced, but it does make me feel better. I just like the idea of control over everything. I also can't really help being weird about money. The last thing I want is to start getting paranoid about it. I know you're not with me for my money, and I never want to think that of you. I never want that thought close to my mind."

"Me neither."

Even though they were actively working to prevent it, Dagmar still felt bad. She really had no idea where her anxiety about money came from, and she hated that it had to affect what should be the most exciting parts of her and Draco's future.

"Do you worry it might?" Dagmar asked.

One side of Draco's mouth worked before he shrugged. "I don't know, maybe. I could just see it happening if your anxiety got out of control when my mum comes back. I would just have my entitlement disbursements and my salary. We're on even footing right now, but it's going to be very lopsided after that."

"Ja." Dagmar pressed her lips briefly. "I guess we just have to be realistic about ourselves, right?"

"That said, if you have any concerns about me, you should bring them up."

"I don't right now." Dagmar cozied up to Draco again, running a hand over his chest. "I feel pretty good at the moment."

"Not offended at all about the prenup?"

"Why would I be?" Dagmar touched their lips together. "I'm the loaded one."

Draco snorted. "I guess."

---

With an agreement in place about how they'd spend money, Dagmar felt fine now to walk around the cottage with Draco and idly plan what their home would look like. They both agreed their first purchases should be stools for the kitchen island and a bed. The next time they were in Trollmannsgaten, they would dip into a furniture shop to see what they offered for living room sets. Dagmar wound up more preoccupied on debating outside sitting, like putting a table on the deck so they could eat out there during nice days.

Ranking it all by priority helped Dagmar as well. She was fully back to feeling excited by the time four o'clock passed. She and Draco had a small debate about whether or not Fru Dyrdahl would mind them coming earlier than everybody else. Dagmar wanted to discuss things like their rental agreement before Roar and the girls showed up.

Dagmar popped briefly out of the fireplace in Den Sultne Jotunn and headed right back in for the Dyrdahl residence. She was brushing a little wayward soot off her blouse when Fru Dyrdahl peeked into the great room.

"Come on in," she told her with a smile. "I'm just puttering."

Dagmar slipped her shoes off on the rug beside the fireplace, looking about as she did. It felt different to come here than when she visited last summer. Dagmar had been under the impression then that this house had been the only place she ever lived before Ramstad Manor.

Draco popped out of the fireplace. Butterflies fluttered in Dagmar's stomach as he ran his fingers back through his hair. Judging by Draco's double glance, Dagmar plainly wore her admiration. She returned his smile, grinning briefly as his hand rested between her shoulder blades. It moved to her lower back on their way into the kitchen.

Fru Dyrdahl was overseeing cutlery rapidly shredding a large head of cabbage. "So what did you think?"

"We'd love to live there," Dagmar replied. "How much were you thinking of charging a month?"

"Honestly, I wouldn't charge you anything at all just for someone to take care of it. Something tells me you wouldn't accept that." Fru Dyrdahl winked. "Market price right now for a cottage and land that size is fifty romer a month."

"Okay," Dagmar said. She and Draco had capped their budget for it at seventy-five. "How would you like to proceed with that, then?"

"I'll draft up an agreement in the next few days. We can just do month to month, rent due on the first starting in July? Or are you moving that soon?"

"We should." Draco nodded. "We both have work orientation on the thirteenth and then start work on the third of August. I'd like to be settled in to some degree by then."

He looked at Dagmar for confirmation. She smiled and rubbed his forearm.

"If you want to start moving things in before the first, I don't mind." Fru Dyrdahl went to the ice box and brought out a tumbler of what looked like berry soda. "The place has just been sitting there for almost a year, empty and waiting for life again."

"We might just do that." Dagmar nodded when Fru Dyrdahl offered to pour her a glass.

"I was also thinking," Fru Dyrdahl said. "Not that it would be something to worry about for a while, but say down the road you two find that you're stable and ready to invest in a property. If you want the place, I would knock whatever you've paid in rent off the purchase price."

"Out of curiosity," Already, Dagmar could feel her anxiety creeping up, "how much would you ask for?"

"I'd say probably twenty-thousand."

Dagmar tried not to let her stomach curdle to hear that number. "We'd be saving for a while, in that case."

"Take your time," Fru Dyrdahl said as she levitated Dagmar and Draco's drinks over to them. She poured herself one afterward. "Now that Filip and I are comfortable, I prefer to wait until the right buyer comes along. I thought it would be Ingrid and Roar, but sometimes things just don't work out."

"Nei."

The three of them hadn't gotten far into other conversation topics when the fireplace whooshed with a new arrival. Dagmar heard shoes flop against the floor and then the patter of small, bare feet running in their direction. The little girl beelined for Fru Dyrdahl, her head practically colliding with Fru Dyrdahl's chest as she hugged her.

"Hallo, little bee." Fru Dyrdahl ran a hand over the girl's curly brown hair. She had it clipped back on one side. "I have company for you to meet. Solveig, this is Dagmar and Draco."

Solveig had a little smile when she said hi and offered her hand for a shake (Dagmar nudged Draco in reminder to stand up). The fireplace worked twice more. Dagmar assumed the second young girl that came in to be Ragna. She was taller and less excitable than Solveig. Her step slowed in front of her dad when she noticed Dagmar and Draco.

"Hallo," she said.

Ragna was less shy about meeting them than Solveig had been. Her blue eyes lit up when Fru Dyrdahl mentioned Dagmar's name mid-handshake. "You're going to live in our old house!"

"That's right," Dagmar replied. "We'll hopefully take care of it."

"I miss the gnomes. They were so dumb."

"They're still there. We saw them earlier."

Dagmar shook Roar's hand next. The girls had inherited his curly hair, and they all had the same round face.

"So you finally made it here." His eyes crinkled when he smiled. "Ingrid's excited. She wants to show you around the hospital."

"I wouldn't say no to a tour," Dagmar said as they all headed for seats at the island. "It'll be just like old times, me following her around."

Roar burst out laughing, confirming to Dagmar that Ingrid remembered that the same way. Fru Dyrdahl went back to working on supper, contributing the odd thing to the conversation as it moved on between Dagmar, Draco, and Roar.

"I'm a little nervous, I guess," Draco admitted with a shrug when Roar asked about him starting at Jotunheimen. "I haven't a clue what I'll be doing, and I don't know anyone I'll be working with yet. The culture is still new to me, too. I've relied on Dagmar to help me navigate that so far, but I won't have her there."

"Considering you actually speak the language, that'll go a long way," Roar reassured him with a fresh smile. "We get a lot of British tourists here in the summer, and their attitude about foreign language is quite different than ours. For a Brit to learn Norwegian is a compliment."

"What about social customs?" Draco asked.

"Upper class politesse probably isn't much different than what you're used to. For more casual settings, it's always best to err on the side of caution for privacy and personal space. Close family and friends are the exception." Roar put an arm around Ragna and squeezed her. "Do not be late for anything without a very good reason. If you run out of things to talk about, the weather will do just fine. Don't talk about blood purity unless it's relevant to the conversation. Understate, don't exaggerate, and be modest."

"I'll do my best," Draco said with a laugh. "I'm still learning to be modest. I was not raised to be."

"Just let your accomplishments speak for themselves," Roar told him. "You work at a dragon reserve. Just by knowing that, I can assume you must be disciplined, one hell of a flyer, and have a cast-iron sphincter."

Dagmar cracked up along with Draco, Roar, and Fru Dyrdahl. "What's that mean?" Solveig asked. When no one replied, she repeated the question in a whisper to Ragna, who shrugged.

Dinner was starting to smell really good when a pop sounded over in the foyer. Herr Dyrdahl called out to announce himself, which sent both girls running to greet him. When he returned to the kitchen, he had a grinning Solveig in his arms. Ragna begged to be carried the same way. Herr Dyrdahl picked her up with a grunt after properly greeting Dagmar and Draco.

"Kitchen's feeling a little small," he said. "Why don't we go out onto the veranda? The food can probably mind itself at this point, Janne?"

"It's ready. We just need Ingrid."

She showed up about fifteen minutes later in her Healer uniform. She beamed as she shook Draco's hand and then pulled Dagmar into a hug.

"Ah, look at you, all grown up!" she said. "You're even taller than me now. When the hell did that happen?"

"Not sure."

It was unfortunate that Ingrid and Roar couldn't stay too long once they'd finished eating. They needed to get the girls home ("before you think we're bad parents," Ingrid joked), and Ingrid herself was tired after what she described as a day longer than it needed to be. Dagmar and Draco headed off first through the fireplace after making tentative plans to see them again. While Dagmar waited for Draco in the travel room at Den Sultne Jotunn, she yawned. They hadn't been in Bergen for long, but the few hours were intense enough to make her idly wish they'd just booked a room here for the night.

Draco sighed contently when he stepped out. "Seems a waste to go all the way back to Britain, doesn't it?"

Dagmar rubbed his arm. "We'll be here permanently soon enough."