Chapter 19: The Converging Path

"Come again?"

Dagmar blinked at Blaise, who'd only just joined the rest of them in the keeping room at Ramstad Manor. He was last to arrive after Theo and Daphne, who'd come over from Malfoy Manor shortly after three o'clock.

"Luca wants to meet up." Blaise dropped into the free chair opposite the fireplace. It crackled to Dagmar's right. "This weekend, if you're up to it."

Given her trial was five days away, Dagmar had plenty enough reasons to be nervous. She waited for a flutter of it to come regarding Luca, but her stomach remained at its current level of unsettled. Dagmar readjusted how she sat instead. Rather than burying her cold toes underneath Draco's thigh, she laid her feet over his lap. His hand was warmer when it closed around her right foot.

"I'd be okay with that," she replied. "Kingsley said he talked to him earlier."

Blaise nodded. "He's pretty sure he's going to Bellatrix's trial. I think he will whether or not Ivan and Marta do. I don't see why they wouldn't. Bellatrix killed their daughter."

Quiet 'yeah's of agreement sounded around the room. Draco shifted where he sat, ending with a sigh.

"Kingsley also said Luca was all right with being talked about for the trials," Dagmar said. "And he's maybe coming to mine."

"Mhm." Blaise pointed his wand at the teapot on the coffee table to pour himself a cup. "He told Ivan and Marta in the letter he sent off not to read any newspapers until he gets home Monday. He hasn't told them yet about his relation to Voldemort or anything."

"He hasn't?" Theo's eyes widened in alarm, although quickly returned to normal. "I guess I can't say I blame him, really."

"It's something he'd prefer to do in-person," Blaise said. "He intended to over the Easter holidays anyway, since he didn't get enough time after the siege to go to Romania. Kingsley warned him that opening the door on that would make it all public."

"Ja." Dagmar's stomach did flutter at that, because it opened the door for her and her mum as well to be exposed. "He's sure he's okay with it? I can't say I'm completely in love with everyone knowing that me and mum are doppelgängers. I'm more partial with not landing a life sentence in Azkaban, but it's still going to be. . .ergh. All the Ramstads are going to find out that my dad wasn't my biological father. Everyone will know I'm only semi-human. I still have no idea how people are going to treat me after it's been verified by the Ministry that Voldemort's inside of me."

"It's still better than everyone thinking you were responsible for what happened at Hogwarts," Draco said with a run of his hand over her ankle.

Dagmar just nodded. Draco had been testy ever since the trial schedule came out. Taking time off work didn't help either. Draco had easily admitted to using the routine and predictability of it to temporarily enforce some sense of normalcy over his life. Without it, he'd lapsed just as deeply into anxiety as everyone else.

Minutes simultaneously felt like seconds and hours right now. The five of them sitting here passed as slow as an age until dinner waited for them in the dining room. Like a flash, Blaise, Theo, and Daphne were gone when the hour grew late. Dagmar hated the empty sound of the house, but didn't feel any better after returning to Malfoy Manor. Dagmar's mum, Narcissa, Lucius, and Wesley were just as quiet. The air here was tense with worry.

Dagmar wanted to spend as much time with them all as possible, just in case these were their last days together, but she also needed to spend that time with Draco. She only wished they could make sex mean more than it wound up being right now. They oscillated so quickly between desperate and meticulous that they could hardly keep on the same page. Dagmar needed to remember every aspect of the body opposite hers, as well as imprint to memory how it felt when paired with her own. At the end of it, no matter how gratifying or lovely, there was no satisfaction. Dagmar and Draco laid in the dark under the light of one torch while they held each other and breathed, and all Dagmar wanted to do was cry.

Friday morning at least came with a much-needed ray of hope. Kingsley had spent his evening (and most of the night) adjusting everything as Luca's blessing allowed. His strategy had been laid out from the very beginning. Since Dagmar would go first, they needed to establish that her actions were not her own. Securing that begged the question as to what influence Dagmar's role as a hostage had on compelling Narcissa, Dagmar's mum, Lucius, and Wesley to act as they did. It offered insight as to why Dagmar's mum fell into Voldemort's service. It provided a reason why none of them turned on Voldemort until the last possible moment, or simply cast a Killing Curse to be done with it all.

Anxiety blanketed over the manor house again once Kingsley finished with them for the day. Dagmar could hardly stand it. She and Draco had talked a little bit about moving over to Ramstad Manor just so that they didn't have to worry about being overheard shagging. The need to be close to their parents won out. Despite that, Dagmar considered it again as Friday night too vanished away in a wisp of repetition. She wanted to tell Draco that he had her blessing to move on if she went to Azkaban, but didn't feel like starting a fight. Selfishly too, she didn't want to waste a single moment that they had. She could just as easily tell Draco that later, not that it would probably do any good. Déjà vu came with a tinge of nausea as Dagmar recalled them going through similar motions in Bergen while Voldemort, Bellatrix, and Peter camped in their spare rooms. Dagmar hated feeling bad that Draco loved her as much as he did.

As Saturday dawned, Dagmar wasn't completely sure she was in the right mood to see Luca. She still wanted to, and time acted funny again. The morning dragged after she'd showered and dressed, and then all of a sudden eleven o'clock arrived. Dagmar sat on the armrest of one of the couches in Ramstad Manor's great room, while Draco leaned over the back of it beside her.

The fireplace whooshed green before Blaise stepped out. He lit up easily enough with a smile, returning the hug Dagmar gave him. Dagmar stiffened in his arms when the fireplace worked again. She felt just a little too vulnerable when Blaise released her.

Luca lingered in front of the hearth with his hands slipped into the front pocket of his hooded jumper. Dagmar felt a little better knowing she wasn't the only awkward one. They smiled at each other in a way that only really ended up with pressed lips.

"Coffee on the terrace?" Draco offered Blaise.

"Sure," Blaise replied, then stepped over to Luca to kiss his cheek with a squeeze of the arm. "We'll be outside."

"I'm sure Dagmar will show me where outside is, if need be."

The four of them snickered, which helped ease the awkwardness. Draco put an arm briefly around Luca's shoulders. "Just follow the blue sky. Can't miss it."

He and Blaise headed for the terrace doors then, leaving Dagmar and Luca on their own. Luca ambled closer to her while looking around the great room. His gaze fell on Dagmar's current watch-Auror.

"Oh—Blaise told you the deal, right?" Dagmar asked. "I've always got someone with me right now."

"He told me." Luca nodded.

Dagmar toyed idly with her fingers. "I could show you around?"

"Sure."

Dagmar felt a little silly and overly formal doing that, but it was also a neutral way to ease into something more comfortable between them. She pointed out the drawing room that was off-limits right now since the Auror office used it as a base, then led Luca over to the keeping room. She gestured into the kitchen on the way to the dining room, which was connected to the foyer. Across it was the larger library. In there, Dagmar mirrored Luca's stance by slipping her hands into her own pockets.

"Blaise and I used to hang out in here a lot before we went to Hogwarts," Dagmar said. "He usually knew where to find me if his mum and dad drug him over while they had a tea with my parents."

"He mentioned that. You were just learning English, he'd said, and he felt for you because he remembered coming to Britain and feeling lost that he couldn't get on with Italian anymore."

"He never said anything about it at the time." Dagmar toed the rug with a smile. "I'm kind of glad he didn't. I was awkward and already so self-conscious about it. The only girls my age I'd met were Pansy, Milly, and Daphne. They're all cousins, and then take into account accent and slang. . .I just couldn't keep up. I never could find an in with their little group."

"What about last year?" Luca asked. "Maybe not Pansy, but you and Milly and Daphne get on all right."

"That surprised me more than anyone." Dagmar chuckled. "I think it had more to do with Pansy just being. . .well, I can't really blame her for having her nose out of joint. Me and her sort of traded places, when I think about it. I used to hang out with Ginny and Harper and all of them. We sort of drifted last year since I started spending so much time with all of you instead."

"It happens. I don't think it means you're not still friends." Luca paused. "I've been hanging out with Ginny."

"Oh?" Dagmar drifted a little closer. "Is she doing all right?"

"Er, she's okay, I think." Luca scratched his eyebrow with the back of his thumbnail. "I always wondered about—oh, you were there. Do you remember when we first met on the train, the look on her face when she came out into the corridor looking for you?"

Dagmar blinked as a strange feeling like warm molasses washed over her. "I forgot about that, actually. I had so much else going on that I just didn't have the capacity to wonder why she'd react like that. I mean, I recognized you too, but. . .well, my head was completely elsewhere. I was hardly more than twelve hours past meeting Voldemort for the first time."

"Draco told us about that after his trial." Luca pulled his bottom lip back between his teeth. "Kind of unreal, isn't it? I'd gotten used at that point to being involved in a second-degree kind of way. There was all of you, and then Mamă."

The sleeves of their jumpers brushed. An ache developed in Dagmar's chest. "How're you doing with that? Your mum?"

Luca shrugged, but the muscles of his cheek twitched downward and his eyes gleamed a little. He cleared his throat. "It's hard. I hate not feeling surprised it happened, because I'd fought her on jumping into the war. But she was only training and doing that investigation with Potter to help him get his toes wet, so. . .she wasn't supposed to get anywhere close to Voldemort or Bellatrix or—anyone else like that."

"I'm sorry for what part I had in it." The ache around Dagmar's heart sharpened. "It happened at my house. She wouldn't have even been there if I'd told anyone at all that I'd lost time. I should've realized my memory had been messed around with. I was so sure that Draco and I were far enough away from it all."

"I don't blame you for it," Luca said. "Not even a little."

Dagmar's eyes blurred with sudden heaviness. She brought her hands up to them in attempt to stave it off, but there wasn't really much of a point. With Monday looming, Dagmar could cry on a hair-trigger anyway. All the guilt she shouldered about the dead people in her wake didn't help. Because of Professor Parasca, that sadly intersected with Luca's life. It was another obstacle Dagmar had identified as necessary to overcome in hopes for any sort of relationship with Luca.

That Luca remained so sweet despite that was a massive relief. Dagmar didn't want to be responsible for ruining that. Him pulling her into a hug confirmed she hadn't.

Dagmar slipped into a weird in-between of worlds—what had been, and what could have been. The house they stood in would be completely unknown to Dagmar if she and Luca had been able to stay together. They never would've left the island, at least not like they had. Luca wouldn't have a mum to grieve. Dagmar wouldn't have a dad for that. Her dad and Professor Parasca would be alive and well, somewhere else and unaware of the children they'd never raised or loved.

Luca sniffled near Dagmar's ear. Dagmar gave him one more lung crushing squeeze before pulling away. "Come upstairs. I'll show you my old room."

It felt just as natural to take Luca's hand. Dagmar meant to let him go at the top of the foyer stairs, but ended up holding on as she pointed out the second library, the master bedroom, the other two guest rooms, and then the currently-closed doors that led to her own. They stood together at the railing overlooking the great room. Columns separated the two-storey tall windows looking out into the terrace and gardens. They could see the backs of Draco and Blaise's heads.

"How long did you live here?" Luca asked. "You moved here when you were ten, I think you'd said?"

Dagmar nodded. "In 1990. Then I guess the summer before I started seventh year at Hogwarts was the end of it."

"Did you like it? It's a really nice house."

Dagmar hesitated, unsure how really to answer. "It was okay. I didn't spend a whole lot of time here since I started at Hogwarts a year after we moved to Britain. That year, I felt completely out of sorts because my life had changed so much. New people, new culture, new city whenever we visited London, new language, new home. . .it was a lot. I'd say it was good until Voldemort came back and my dad became a Death Eater. Then I kind of hated it here. My room was my sanctuary over summer holidays. I never came home for Christmas and Easter after that."

Luca's tentative smile had slipped while Dagmar spoke. She reached for his wrist to pull him toward her old room.

"All my things are either in Bergen or over at Malfoy Manor, so it doesn't really feel like my space anymore," Dagmar said as Luca looked around inside. "The Crabbe and Goyle families stayed here before they were relocated. I think Mr and Mrs Goyle had my room."

"When I came down to London after the siege, I passed through here," Luca replied. "I just hopped in and out of the fireplace. It was long enough to have the thought that maybe this would've been somewhere I lived if things were different. I don't think that's actually the case, is it?"

"It is, actually."

Dagmar gestured as invitation at the opposite end of the couch she sat on. She glanced over toward the open bedroom door as the Auror following her right now made himself comfortable against the wall. A ghost of nerves arose in Dagmar to recall that the last time Voldemort woke up happened in here. Dagmar hoped he wouldn't interrupt this. It felt like it went well so far.

"You would've lived here if Magnus had held onto you," Dagmar said. "My mum and dad intended to bring you home if they found him. I really don't think it would've been that simple if you'd gotten attached to Magnus. There's no reason why you wouldn't have. Other than trying to take us, he was apparently a good man. He and my mum didn't always get along, but you and I were very attached. If they'd stayed together, I don't think either of us would have any inkling he wasn't our biological father. We both called him Pappa."

Luca toyed with his lip again, getting a faraway look. "Do you ever wonder how hard it was for him? Leaving you behind, then leaving me in Bucharest?"

"I haven't really had much time to think about it." Dagmar paused. "Bellatrix took me to Paris back in November to see Magnus. I'm sure he and I probably talked about it, but I don't remember anything. I don't know if I wish it was reversible. I'd like to corroborate the memory they have from that other witness, but it also means I would remember his murder."

Luca's face fell.

"Maybe it wouldn't be necessary." Dagmar's voice quivered. "Kingsley says you can tell from my voice in the witness' memory that I didn't want to be there. I was hysterical. I'm being charged for accessory on that. Being so close now to the trial, it's getting hard not to wish I could give everything possible to improve my chances."

"I bet."

As their conversation touched upon it, everything Dagmar felt about it quickly followed. She couldn't talk about it with Draco. He couldn't bear to hear her fears, her what-ifs, and the recourses she had thought through for the worst-case scenario. Normally, Dagmar would be annoyed or angry if Draco shut her down about something she so desperately needed comfort about. She couldn't blame him though, and there really was no point discussing any of it. If Dagmar headed for Azkaban on Monday, she didn't want these last few days to be spent in argument and despair. Should Dagmar walk free, they'd wasted that energy anyway.

"It's so hard to believe I'm really facing Azkaban," Dagmar whispered. "I'm supposed to be dead. I might as well have been for about six weeks. I had to live with all the Death Eaters. I didn't have control of my body. I was possessed by Voldemort and made to do things I never would on my own. I came back from all that. I came home. But I could wind up in prison for the rest of my life now. If that's all that was going to come of it all, then why couldn't I just have died?" Dagmar's breath hitched despite her attempt to hold it steady. "If they sentence me there, they might as well just kill me. Then Voldemort can be gone too. Spare me and get rid of him, all at once."

The reality of that possibility crashed down on Dagmar so hard that she barely registered the couch jostle. Arms wrapping around her weren't lost. If anything, they were the only thing keeping Dagmar rooted in the here and now. Her breaths slowed and feeling returned to her hands. She could control them well enough to wipe her cheeks. Her stomach still hurt, as though she'd been punched.

"It's okay," Luca told her with a run of a hand over her head.

"It's really not."

"It's okay to be scared, though," he replied. "Everyone is. With Draco's trial, we were all terrified even though we knew he was innocent. And then his trial was pretty much nothing."

"I want to hope for that, but I couldn't bear it if they were crushed."

"I know."

Dagmar leaned more against Luca. As her panic receded, embarrassment trickled in to replace it. It wasn't strong enough to make her move away. "I'm sorry. This isn't what you came here for."

"I came to see you." Luca rested his cheek against the top of Dagmar's head. "I knew you were going to be a mess, if that helps."

Not entirely sure how, Dagmar managed to laugh. "Putting it mildly. It's so hard because I can't even tell Draco these things. It kills him. If he's going to be without me, I don't want that to be how we part ways. I didn't imagine there could be a way worse than him thinking he saw me die. But coming back long enough just to tease him. . .that's beyond cruel."

"I kind of thought like that when Draco, Potter, and I were down in the Chamber," Luca said. "Potter said he thought it more likely your mum actually go through carrying me again. It would take all my memories and all that, and I'd be reborn. Imagine being Blaise, or my grandparents if they lived long enough to see me grow up again after Voldemort took over. I'd know nothing of them. I'd be completely different."

"You think so?"

"Raised by Voldemort? Of course I'd be a different person."

"I don't think he was interested in raising you. Only my mum was."

"That's just what I was thinking down there. I had about half an hour to process that Voldemort was my father, about ten minutes to think about not possibly surviving the day, and two minutes to beg for my life. I don't know your mum. I had no idea what she wanted, but what Potter said made sense. She's. . ." Luca paused. "I guess I'm her son. Of course she'd want a second chance. What mother wouldn't, if the opportunity was right in front of them? I don't have much choice but to respect that she was strong enough to back away from that."

"Ja." Dagmar also had no choice but to agree. "My parents and I traveled a lot when I was little. They always seemed to prefer the French parts of Europe. I never questioned it or anything, but they were looking for you. They'd tracked Magnus to Paris. He could speak some French, so their best guess was that he lived somewhere rural with you. They snuck into Beauxbatons apparently. Kapsferd too. Mum and Dad watched for you to show up on the train platform at King's Cross. My entire life revolved around you, and I had no idea."

Luca took Dagmar's hand again as they settled with their shoulders pressed.

"I lived in Tromsø because Mum and I left the island to find you. She met my dad there. They moved to Bergen because my dad took a Ministry job that paid for him to travel to the continent a lot. Five years of no luck from that, and then my grandpa that managed the manor died. My dad volunteered for the possibility Magnus brought you to Britain. And here we are." Dagmar gestured at the room. "It's still a little weird that I'm not actually Norwegian. Or—Scandinavian, I guess. After my mum told Harry that she was born a Ramstad, I thought I was Danish. I'm not. . .anything, really."

"I heard about that," Luca said. "Where you and your mum are from."

Dagmar laughed mirthlessly and rubbed at her face with her free hand. "My mum has such a strange relationship with the truth that I don't know yet if I really believe her. I don't think Helka would lie to me on her behalf, though. Not outrightly. She didn't tell me anything about it when I went to Leidfall with Draco in October. Mum told me she could prove it if the Department of Mysteries would ever allow her back into the hǫrgr. I don't think they will. Not right now. It would be too easy for her to slip away completely if she didn't come back to this plane. With her trial on Wednesday, that would be mighty tempting. I'd be worried about not finding a way back if she decided to stay in Vanaheim."

"I haven't wrapped my mind around it either." Luca bunched his lips to one side, then to the other. "It's taken me nearly a month to even start thinking about how Voldemort and I are related. I don't know how to feel about your mum because the thing is, if I'm exactly Voldemort, your mum isn't actually my biological parent. I don't have any of her genes. I don't have her blood. She grew me, yeah. She gave birth to me. I don't remember her—well, I remember a few things. Just very small snippets. I can't even say that she's a social parent to me. I'm as related to her as I am to Mamă, and Mamă was the one that raised me. It doesn't help that Mamă is gone. It makes me really protective of her being my mum. It's still too soon after she died to not feel like I'd be abandoning her memory or something if I sought out some sort of relationship with my bio-mum."

"My mum doesn't expect anything," Dagmar said. "She'd like it, but she's made her peace."

Luca nodded in a mindless manner. The smile that followed was careful and strained. "I'm glad it's different for us. I wouldn't want to feel like that about you."

"I'd be in the same boat as my mum if we weren't friends before we knew all this. I wouldn't feel it my place at all to try for some sort of sibling relationship. I guess I sort of didn't anyway. You had a lot more to process all of a sudden than I did. I wanted to give you space for that, especially since I had my own part in bringing it all to you."

Luca shrugged. "It wasn't your fault we got stuck in the middle of all this. I can hardly even say it's your mum's, honestly."

"I feel bad for her," Dagmar said with a sigh. "She's made her mistakes, ja. She's hurt us by them. It's hard not to say she's paid the price at the same time. I don't know that there's a greater pain than losing a child the way she did you. Not knowing if you were safe, let alone happy and well, or if you were even alive. . .and then Voldemort came back, and the child she thought was in the clear becomes a hostage. She thought the Ministry would kill me if it meant the chance to kill Voldemort. After everything went wrong in Bergen, she actually did think that's what happened. She heard I'd died before news got there that Voldemort did. Then I was in this situation with Voldemort, and she needed to find you. They got to the Balkans and their leads dried up. She thought you were dead and that I was stuck like this. It's not been easy."

"Doesn't sound like it."

In the lull to follow, Dagmar studied Luca. "You don't mind me telling you all this, right? I don't mean to dominate the conversation."

"Not at all." Luca flashed her a new smile. "I've been curious. I've always been curious, really. I wanted to know where I came from, and it's exciting to find out I really did have a sibling. I thought I wasn't wanted, and that's how I ended up at the Auror office in Bucharest. It's sad and—I don't know, a relief? I don't know how to explain that feeling. I'm glad I was wanted, but I'm sorry that your mum had to go through all that. I'm glad I had a good life so that she doesn't have to wonder anymore."

"That's what I was curious about." Dagmar rested her head against the back of the couch. "Your life. I've heard snippets about your family, and Durmstrang. I had the privilege of meeting your mum. It's not that I wasn't interested before, but it's a little different now. I really want to know how things went for you after you left the island."

"I was thinking," Luca said. "So long as things go how they should on Monday, how would you feel about meeting my grandparents? I want you to be a part of my life too. That means knowing my family, and maybe coming to visit the villa sometime once Voldemort is gone. What would you think?"

"I'd like that." As Dagmar grew nervous again about Monday, she realized that she'd managed to forget about her trial through the course of this conversation. "You could do the same. I'd like you to meet the Ramstads. They're really lovely people. Have you met Lys and Vann?"

"Those are the creatures on the island, right?" Luca asked. "No, I haven't. Potter told me that I was born on there, but I haven't visited it yet. I didn't want to sneak onto it. I haven't gotten around to asking permission either. I'm curious about it, but I just. . .haven't."

"Would you prefer if I went with you?" Dagmar replied. "If you want to know what the first year of your life was like, Lys could show you. She has an ability sort of like reverse Legilimency that can make you see things from her memory. Since you're a Parselmouth, she could tell you things. She helped my mum raise us."

"Okay," Luca agreed. "I'd do that."

A new smile came over Dagmar. It had been far too long by emotional reckoning that she have something to look forward to. The weight of her impending trial existed somewhere outside this room at the moment. Dagmar very cautiously let the excitement of her potential life after Monday fill her back up. Marriage. Kids. Family. Freedom. Peace.

"Would you tell me more about Romania anyway?" she asked Luca. "Just in case I don't get to visit."

"Of course."

Luca paused for a moment to figure out where to even start before he told Dagmar what his family's villa was like. He described rows of fruit trees in the orchard, and the pastures that extended to the base of each hill surrounding their land. He told Dagmar what his grandparents were like, his grandmother strict but kind, and his grandfather kind but strict. Dagmar had a good laugh over the idea of Grigore, the domovoy that lived behind the kitchen stove. It being the thirtieth of March on Tuesday, the annual day of mischief for domovoye, Luca anticipated what sort of mess Grigore would make in the house even after being appeased with Luca's grandmother's fresh apple cake.

Their conversation lulled for a moment as Neesy the house elf showed up with two cups of coffee and some cakes to go with it. Luca talked about Durmstrang then, how out of place he felt there since Romania was quite distinct from the other countries whose youths attended. Romanian culture had Latin roots with Slavic influence. Luca learned to speak Russian growing up, and he felt confident in that until he had to speak to actual Russians at school. The boys at Durmstrang were rough and the girls haughty, and Luca hid that he was gay as effectively as that he was adopted. He'd hoped that he could hide his sexuality behind maybe going both ways, but fancies never arose for any of the girls Luca figured himself most probable to like.

That had a lot of influence over Luca's decision to go to Hogwarts with his mum, and was he ever glad he did. He and Dagmar lowered their voices to conspiratorial levels as they talked between bouts of giggles about their men sitting out on the terrace. Dagmar started to miss Draco at that point, and Luca Blaise.

Having had to pee for a little while, Dagmar used that point in the conversation to nip into the toilet. She lifted a foot to nudge Luca's knee with her toe when she returned to the couch. "What say we go join them? I wouldn't mind sitting in the sun."

"Sure."