Chapter 20: Spectre over London
Spending a couple hours sitting on the terrace with Blaise had a similar cooling effect on Draco's nerves. Nothing really seemed to do it right now. Draco didn't want to spend so much as a minute away from Dagmar or his parents as Monday neared. Dagmar and Luca deciding to meet up gave Draco the chance to take a step away without feeling bad about it.
His and Blaise's occasional wondering toward how Dagmar and Luca got on culminated with the two of them eventually meandering out onto the terrace. Draco studied Dagmar's disposition for any concerning signs, but she looked the most relaxed she had in a while. That started to undo itself after Dagmar had taken a seat beside him. Draco couldn't really take it personally when the same thing happened to him.
He still liked to think they were both in a better place when Blaise and Luca headed off through the fireplace. Draco sighed and ran a hand down the inside of Dagmar's arm on his way to hooking their fingers.
"I'm glad that went well for you," he said.
"Me too." Dagmar floated close enough for their shoulders to touch. "We made some plans for if Monday goes a good way."
Draco nodded. He didn't want to say 'good' because he didn't want to toy with their hopes. He couldn't ask Dagmar why she made plans when her trial might not go well because he didn't want to careen them back toward despair. Draco opted with the neutral path. "Okay."
"Why don't we hang out here for a while?" Dagmar suggested. "The quiet is nice. The house feels kind of peaceful."
"Sure."
With a tight smile, Dagmar took Draco's hand and led him toward the foyer. They headed upstairs from there and into Dagmar's old room. Dagmar's eyes looked puffy with fatigue. Both she and Luca had fallen to the tired side after coming out onto the terrace. It was a relaxed sort though, rather than a worried one. Whether or not he fought against any sort of emotion right now, Draco allowed for some cautious optimism as the two of them lounged above the covers on Dagmar's old bed.
Dagmar carded her fingers through Draco's hair, nails lightly scratching his scalp. "Luca wants me to meet his grandparents."
"Yeah?"
"And visit Romania, so I can see where he grew up. I don't see why you wouldn't be able to come with."
"So long as it doesn't overlap with my work schedule, I don't either." Draco paused. "Unless you want it to just be you two?"
"Oh, maybe."
Dagmar studied Draco in the silence that fell. Her fingers found his cheek instead, followed by her thumb. When her palm settled on it, Draco turned his face enough to kiss it.
"Draco, I can't stand this anymore," she said. "If things don't go well for me Monday, I don't want to spend my last two days here wallowing in crippling uncertainty. Can we please talk like this instead, like a future matters? Like it'll be there? How did you survive the wait until your trial without doing that?"
"I didn't have anything to look forward to."
It wasn't entirely true—Draco had his job and some family should he get out of Azkaban, but it didn't hold a candle against everything else.
"It has to go all right." Dagmar's voice turned slightly waspish and raspy with her whisper. "How can it not? All the memories they've gotten, and it just has to make sense that I wouldn't have done this all on my own. I couldn't have. Why would the Death Eaters ever listen to me? How would Bellatrix not have realized in half a heartbeat that I wasn't actually Voldemort? It just has to work out."
"Logically, yeah." Draco sighed and rubbed his eyes. "There's just always that small chance that they're not going to understand, or they're not going to care. I know they probably will. With the amount of memories we all gave up, who's going to have a chance to lie? The Wizengamot knows none of you even could. Everyone else's had to line up. It's just. . ."
"I know." Dagmar ran her thumb over Draco's cheekbone.
Although their conversation oscillated this way, Draco didn't feel an overwhelming surge of hope. Dread always came back around once the what-ifs started anew. Draco didn't want to be a drag on Dagmar trying to orient herself for Monday. He just couldn't help it. He wanted to dream about them being married with a family. If all of that got taken away on Monday, Draco didn't know if he could ever bring himself to seek out the possibility again. The great experiment of love turned out too painful. Draco was better off just hanging out with dragons. He had friends like Charlie and Tonks that didn't bother with romantic relationships. They didn't seem too hard off by it. Draco could maybe be the same way if he tried hard enough.
"If Monday goes how it should," Draco said, his heart picking up, "I want to talk about getting married."
Dagmar's gaze softened as they studied each other. A smile followed the colour that rose in her cheeks. "Okay."
"You're not agreeing just because you're scared?" Draco asked. "Or because it might not end up mattering if things go wrong?"
"No." Dagmar's hand moved to Draco's shoulder instead, running over it. "I'm ready. We know from living together what being married is going to be like. Even if we run into trouble down the road, you can't really say we don't know how to fight for this."
Draco shook his head, agreeing.
"I haven't thought about a wedding at all." Dagmar pursed her lips. "I don't know that I'm particularly fussed. I went with my parents when they got married. Doing it at the Ministry is so nice, quick, and simple. I don't want an obstacle between now and then. What about you?"
"I don't really care." Draco drew closer. Even if it might be a bad idea, considering all the possibilities for Monday's outcome, he couldn't help but follow Dagmar toward discussing this now instead of later. "I've always favoured just falling in with you and getting these things over with. Especially now. I feel like I've waited too long already."
"Me too." Dagmar turned her face to catch Draco's lips with hers. Their softness instigated a stir, which in turn drew Draco's breath in an automatic inhale. "Having a fiancé is so 1998."
Draco snorted.
Dagmar returned to running her nails over Draco's scalp. "Going through what we have has definitely influenced my decision about it. Maybe if things didn't go like they did, I wouldn't be so keen to rush. Life is way too short to wait around on things I already know, though. You're going to be a wonderful husband. I'm an incredibly lucky woman to be the one who'll get to call you that."
"I'm honestly to the point where I'm frustrated we're not married yet," Draco replied. "I feel like we are, and like we don't need the Ministry or whoever to recognize that. It's important to me that they do, as well as the people in our lives. It's worth celebrating. If you thought I was impatient before. . ."
Dagmar grinned, a definite departure from when she'd grow uncertain or quiet. "We already made this promise to each other. We knew where we were going. There are just a few more obstacles we need to get through. Monday, and then Voldemort. I can't even say if I care or not that we get set back up at home first. I feel like part of getting on with our life is making that trip to the Ministry and signing a few papers."
"Me too."
Draco ran his hand up Dagmar's arm. His heart swelled in a familiar way as his fingertips brushed her engagement ring. It really did feel so stupid that she wasn't his wife yet. She might as well be, for all the bollocks they'd gone through together. Maybe they couldn't be completely certain about what challenges laid ahead of them as a couple, but hadn't the ones they already faced presented the test for how far they willed to go for the other?
As much as Draco didn't want to get ahead of himself, he couldn't exactly help it either. They shouldn't be discussing when and how to get married. Couldn't they move past that? Wasn't it time yet to start talking about their timeline on kids? How had that changed because of all this?
Draco didn't feel too fussed to ask when Dagmar leaned in again to kiss him. Her leg sliding into his waist further pushed it from his mind. Right now, Draco didn't really want to think about the future. That didn't come from a place of fear or dread, but calmness. Draco had a warm body pressed against his. A hole about burned through his lower abdomen when Dagmar's fingers trailed up under the front of his shirt, pulling the fabric with them.
Before things could go much further, Dagmar lifted her head to address her shadow-Auror. She'd only opened her mouth when he stood from the couch and bid them a three-fingered wave in farewell. Dagmar propped herself up on her elbow as her gaze followed him toward the exit. Her other hand ran down over Draco through his trousers when the door had drummed closed.
Draco inhaled with purpose to steady himself. "What're you thinking?"
"That I'd like to take my time on you."
Even in the shower afterward, Draco remained mostly at-peace. Dagmar too. Her shoulders had yet to wind back up with tension, she remained giggly, and a placid smile became her default expression as the two of them prepared to head back to Malfoy Manor in time for dinner. Maybe there, Draco thought. Their parents were certainly anxious enough for it, but Draco felt like a bubble had bloomed around him and Dagmar at the dining room table. If that bubble ever felt in danger of being popped, Draco would seek out Dagmar's hand. She sat to his right, so her left was in easy reach. He'd run his fingers over the platinum band, committing to memory the rise of black diamonds and swirls of warm metal that separated them. Out of habit when Dagmar needed her hand to eat, Draco would touch the pad of his thumb to where he'd worn his own band for three months.
He hadn't even thought about it since the siege. The band had been on his finger through the entire thing, but Draco couldn't say that anybody had actually noticed it. He'd taken it off in Bergen when he ran up to fetch things for everyone else, and there in the master closet it remained. How long would it be now until Draco could wear it again, this time in earnest? Even if Dagmar did well on Monday, Voldemort would have to be gone. He agreed with her preemptively on that requirement. He couldn't say he wanted to marry Voldemort.
Kingsley came early on Sunday morning. Draco rose with Dagmar for it, and spent nearly the entire day between the great and dining rooms as everything was reviewed. Everyone oscillated between hope and concern so rashly that Draco felt the need mid-afternoon for a kip. He put it off by drowning himself in coffee and reinforcing the buffer around himself and Dagmar by playing with her ring. Every time he did, a sigh of near-relief would follow from Dagmar.
Everyone split up when Kingsley left after dinner. Dagmar had fallen back into a mood of wanting to spend time with their family, but the day had also exhausted her toward the others in the house. Draco resettled with her up in his room, arms tight around her. Her forehead was in easy reach for his lips, so he pressed them there often.
"I'd like to tell you something," Draco said.
"Mm?" Dagmar turned her face more toward his.
"Before I do, please don't give me that look like 'how sad'." Draco lightly scratched her arm. "I wore my wedding band while you were gone."
Although Dagmar's brow didn't furrow, nor did her lips press, Draco could tell she schooled her expression in order to meet his request.
"It was a private way to grieve," Draco explained. "Nobody else knew."
"Are you telling me for a reason?" Dagmar considered it. "Or do you just want me to know it won't be the first time you have when we eventually exchange them?"
"Mostly I just want you to know. I wish I got to wear mine now, like you do. It's silly that men don't."
Dagmar chuckled. "It's a payoff in a way. I feel the same way about getting to wear the emerald part of my set. It'll help to make it feel official."
"Yeah."
"Did it help?"
"Erm, sort of, I guess." Draco shrugged. "It probably wasn't healthy, when I was supposed to be trying to heal. I was just so disappointed that I'd never get the chance to wear it in earnest. I thought a lot about everything we lost the opportunity for. It hurt almost as much as losing what we already had. I really was ready to spend my life with you."
"I was too. I knew that already, but I couldn't tell you how terrified I was that you might have a chance to process your grief before I could come home. I don't know what I would've done if you'd found someone new."
Draco worked his bottom lip. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't know that I would have. Maybe there are other people I'd be compatible with, but losing you really wrecked me. I don't know that I would've trusted falling in love again."
Dagmar rested her cheek against Draco's chest. Her fingers played with the hem of his shirt while she thought. "There's a small selfish part of me that's relieved to hear that. At the same time, I would've wanted you to be happy if I was really gone. I wouldn't want you to be alone."
"I didn't think so, but it would've been my choice. Being by myself didn't have to be a horrible thing. Tonks and Charlie are happy enough without partners."
"Would you be, though? With how good of a boyfriend and fiancé you've been to me, it honestly seems like such a waste to let your love go ungiven."
Draco just shrugged.
"I guess it doesn't matter." Dagmar sighed. "Things worked out. They'll be more certain by this time tomorrow."
"Yeah." Draco's stomach flipped at the reminder. Dagmar's trial was little more than twelve hours away now. "I'd like to talk about kids afterward."
A spurt of air washed over Draco's neck, and he felt her smile. "What about them?"
"What our timeline is like now. We'd settled before that you'd finish your Healing certificate and work a few years first. You're going to be delayed on that now, so. . ."
"It's definitely different than getting married. I feel like we could get married anytime. It doesn't really change anything. Rather than being an engaged couple getting our life back on track, we'd be a married couple. We should definitely be a lot more settled before we bring a little person into the mix—for their sake."
"Yeah, true enough." Draco paused. "I'll be back to work. After enough time working at the reserve and seeing how our financial situation is, I'm comfortable with the idea we wouldn't have to worry about money at all. These trials might affect our entitlement disbursements in future, but we always planned not to rely on those anyway. So since I'll be back to work, the decision lays completely on you when we might move forward. I mean, it did anyway, but you know what I mean. I'll be ready. We'll be financially ready. We have the space. This next week will determine what sort of support system we have. Not that I expect it of our parents to help us. I just think they'd offer. My mum always wanted more children anyway, and your mum—well."
"If anyone's an expert on child-rearing, it'll be her. She's done it bloody well enough times."
"Yeah."
There wasn't much planning to do for now, since that definitely relied more on a steady calendar. Unlike getting married, it would take more than setting aside one day. It would change their entire life. Since they didn't yet know what there would be to change, Draco was just as content to leave the conversation there for now. They seemed to be on the same page, and that was all he could really ask for at the moment.
Draco woke up once when darkness still prevailed outside. Dagmar remained curled up beside him, so Draco drifted back off. When he came to next, Dagmar had slipped out. Draco could smell her shampoo riding on the humidity from the bathroom. Light lined the floor, spilling out from there. Draco knocked before letting himself in.
Dagmar stood in front of the mirror, fixing her hair in a half-fogged glass. She'd opted for her usual plait along with light makeup. Baby blue robes sat folded on the counter. Dagmar had only dressed as far as her bra and knickers.
"Morning," she greeted Draco.
"Mm."
Draco hadn't hit a point yet in wakefulness to speak. He stalled on his way to the toilet so that he could put his arms around Dagmar's middle. He kissed her neck and shoulder before resting his head there.
Dagmar's head touched his. "Are you going to get ready then?"
"Mhm."
A shower helped Draco wake up. He braced for his nerves to hit, and they certainly did reemerge. A strange calm surrounded them. The day was here. Things had to go well. Draco just kept telling himself that.
Dagmar waited for him in the bedroom. Her shadow-Auror had left to give them some space, so Draco dressed out there instead. While he did, Dagmar toyed with her appearance beside him.
"It'll go well," she said. "I don't see how it can't."
"Me neither."
They were both still nervous, but that was a given. Draco took her hand as they headed downstairs. The great room's air clogged completely with anxiety. Draco's parents, Wes, and Hildegard had all similarly dressed in a matter fitting for Courtroom Ten. Kingsley lightly paced, flipping through his notes until he too noticed Draco and Dagmar arrive. Helka stood from where she sat beside Hildegard.
Kingsley cleared his throat, gaze landing on Dagmar. "Helka will remove your ward runes so that you're able to travel to the Ministry. We might as well get going."
Draco migrated over to his parents while Helka went about doing that for Dagmar. A squeeze to his mum's shoulder compelled her to reach up and touch Draco's hand. He leaned down afterward to put a kiss to her cheek. It seemed to mean more than words right now. Draco and his dad exchanged jerky nods.
Kingsley came over. "You'll have to go separately to the Ministry. I'll warn you, the media has already set up for the day. They've been instructed not to bother anybody, but that doesn't mean they won't try."
Draco nodded and returned to where Dagmar brushed the remnants of dirt off her right arm. She pressed her lips before being pulled into a tight hug.
"I love you," Draco said.
"I love you too."
"I'll see you later."
Dagmar nodded against Draco's shoulder. Her arms tightened further yet, and Draco caught a shaky exhale. He pulled back enough to kiss her, studying her expression afterward. The invasive thought that this might be the last time they saw each other in such manner tried to press in. Draco wouldn't let it. This woman would be his wife. They would have a family to plan, and a life to live together. It would be fine.
Draco headed for the fireplace. Every fibre of his body screamed at him to stop as the distance between himself and Dagmar expanded. Before it could become too overwhelming, he threw a pinch of powder into the fire and headed for the Ministry.
A full Atrium made Draco hesitate before he stepped out. He almost didn't recognize it. Draco had never seen so many people here at once. He also sincerely doubted they came to conduct business.
Draco's name being called confirmed that. He looked in direction of that out of reflex before quickening his step. Far too many heads swivelled about, trying to find him.
"How do you feel about—?"
"Excuse me," Draco curtly told the woman. He didn't know her, but his suspicion she belonged to some rag probably held merit.
"Do you think—?"
"No comment."
"What's your opinion on—?"
"I said excuse me."
The security desk thankfully had a buffer of Magical Enforcement officers. Draco hadn't bothered with his wand and was on the list for Courtroom Ten attendees, so he made a quick line for the lifts. Level Ten sounded like a library when the doors opened there. The quiet rabble of conversation echoed down the corridor, leading Draco toward the open pair of doors as if it had him on a tether.
The seats on either side of the room were half full. Draco looked about for Blaise and Luca, and spotted them at the same time they saw him. Theo and Daphne had already arrived. Draco took a seat between Theo and Blaise.
"All right?" Blaise asked.
Draco nodded. "It'll be fine."
He said it decisively enough that the other four didn't have replies. They all just nodded. Draco couldn't tell if they believed him or not. He certainly didn't want to argue about it.
No one really wanted to say anything at all as they watched the room slowly fill up. It was mostly people Draco recognized. All the Hogwarts professors took seats, Hagrid being the most noticeable of them all. Draco sat up straighter when Håkon and Agneta walked in. They spotted him and took the empty seats in the row ahead. While they all chatted somewhat stiffly from nerves in Norwegian, Janne, Filip, Ingrid, and Roar also appeared. Arne was behind them, and took a seat beside Ingrid at the end of the row.
The front row on the other side remained cleared. Draco's stomach toppled in a funny way when Williamson entered the room and led the line following him toward it. Draco's parents fronted it, then Wes. Hildegard pulled up the rear along with the second escort. The rest of the room similarly hushed in realization that they had arrived, then swelled in whispers. That ceased again when burgundy and black robes started filing in from the doors behind the Wizengamot seats. Madam Bones had emerged first, reaching her central seat while the others flowered around her. Draco wasn't sure how to feel when he saw that Ernie Macmillan would again fill the role of scribe. Macmillan didn't appear to know how to feel about it either.
"Order," Madam Bones said, even though it was hardly necessary. "Court will begin once the accused has arrived and been seated."
At about the same time, both Blaise and Theo clapped Draco lightly on his forearms in a show of solidarity and comfort. Draco's nerves had swelled again, his mouth going dry. The room fell so quiet that Draco almost thought he could hear Macmillan's quill scratching on the other side of it. Draco's heartbeat picked up against his rib cage when he heard heels clicking against the corridor floor outside the courtroom.
Flanked by Kingsley and her shadow-Auror, Dagmar entered. She kept her back straight and chin up, but Draco could tell by the way her jaw clenched that she fought against tossing. An involuntary shudder seized Draco's shoulders. This reminded him too strongly of when he sat in that single chair, nearly three months ago to the day. As horrible as it was, he'd rather go through it again if it meant Dagmar didn't have to.
The courtroom doors closed with a wave of Madam Bones' wand. Dagmar, Kingsley, and the shadow-Auror stood in front of the chair, facing the Wizengamot. Between the two men, Dagmar looked small.
"Good morning, Miss Ramstad," Madam Bones greeted her. "You will be represented today by Kingsley Shacklebolt?"
"Yes ma'am." Although quiet, the room's magical acoustics carried Dagmar's voice about.
"Very well. Please be seated."
She did, eyeing the chains that slunk over it. Draco thought he heard a rattle, but they remained still. Dagmar crossed her ankles under the chair and folded her hands in her lap. The shadow-Auror stood off to the side, hands behind his back and knees at-ease.
Madam Bones cleared her throat. "Dagmar Ramstad, you appear in front of the Wizengamot today to contest the following charges: leading dementors and known Death Eaters in laying siege against Azkaban, which resulted in eleven deaths and one-hundred and thirteen dementor kisses; aiding the breakout of Rodolphus Lestrange, Walden Macnair, Malcolm Avery, Hildegard Ramstad, and Lucius Malfoy; plotting and arranging the assassination of Rufus Scrimgeour; kidnapping and holding captive Kingsley Shacklebolt; leading dementors and known Death Eaters in laying siege against Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry; the murder of Albus Dumbledore; and the attempted murder of Draco Malfoy. I will now open the floor to your advocate to speak on your behalf."
"I bid good morning to my fellow members of the Wizengamot," Kingsley started with. "There is no denial from Miss Ramstad that the crimes listed were conducted by use of her body. As one of the charges she faces today is against myself, I act as witness to the fact that Dagmar is currently being spiritually possessed by Voldemort following the failed attempt on his life by Harry Potter on December fourth of last year.
"In order to prove this, I have already submitted as evidence the relevant memories of Dagmar herself, Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley, Hildegard Ramstad, Narcissa Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, and Wesley Nott. I will also summon the Matriarch of the druidic city Leidfall to show that two souls currently reside inside of Dagmar. I have a slew of character witnesses that understand the logic of the magic that has put Dagmar in her current position. They will speak to Dagmar's character, as will I. She is not someone that could have ever willed to commit these crimes.
"I'll begin first with an overview of events, so that a truncated version can be taken for record."
While Kingsley paused to glance at his notes, Draco saw the media section of the spectators lean forward in keenness.
"As per Hildegard Ramstad's memories, this begins back in 1961," Kingsley said. "Hildegard lived apart from wizarding society as not only a druid, but a doppelgänger. You will hear later from both Hermione Granger and Helka the specifics on how our understanding of doppelgängers has been amended. To summarize, doppelgängers are female, semi-human magic-users that asexually reproduce a child genetically identical to themselves. Half of their soul goes into the child. When the doppelgänger dies, it takes possession of the child's body. The cycle repeats, through which the same child is repeatedly born. This is the mother-daughter relationship between Hildegard and Dagmar Ramstad.
"In 1961, a death golem arrived on the hafgufa Hildegard and Dagmar called home. You'll also hear from Arthur Weasley later regarding the death golem, since the Dark Artefacts office has looked it over. It was enchanted to kill Hildegard, and it managed. Because she had a doppelgänger, Hildegard was able to carry on from this assault. In interest of finding who had sent it, Hildegard began paying more attention to the goings-on in our world. Fourteen years had passed when she became aware of Voldemort. She arranged to meet him to see what knowledge he might have on the matter.
"He didn't know anything, but a friendship began. Voldemort had interest in perusing Hildegard's writings regarding druidic magic, and she enjoyed his company. Voldemort learned what Hildegard was, and how she was capable of immortality. Over the course of five years, Voldemort and Hildegard grew closer. They had opened a discussion on the possibility of Hildegard providing Voldemort with a similar safety net toward death. When Dagmar was born—this Dagmar—" Kingsley specified with a gesture toward her, "—Voldemort decided that he would like to move ahead with procuring a doppelgänger.
"Voldemort did not fully trust Hildegard to handle his soul, however. In good faith, Hildegard offered to remove her own soul fragment from Dagmar and place Voldemort's there instead as collateral. This is how Voldemort ended up possessing Dagmar after Harry Potter hit him with a Killing Curse on December fourth. The fragment in his resurrected body defaulted to Dagmar's as his soul coupled back up."
The courtroom fell quiet again as Kingsley paused. Draco felt a twinge of annoyance to hear the rustling scratch of quills and fervent whispers in the media pit.
"Therefore, all the crimes committed between December fourth and January twenty-third—the day Dagmar became conscious again—were certainly committed by someone other than herself," Kingsley continued. "That leaves only the happenings of March fourth of this year that may be contested. In order to provide proof that Voldemort acted instead of Dagmar, I will continue retelling events past the agreement Voldemort and Hildegard reached in 1980.
"Hildegard had agreed to provide Voldemort a doppelgänger, and became pregnant in the spring of 1981. She gave birth to a boy she named Bjorn on the winter solstice of that year. Of course, Voldemort never returned to the hafgufa. He had already disappeared on Halloween after his first failed attempt to kill Harry Potter. This left Dagmar magically connected, and Bjorn genetically connected, to Voldemort. Hildegard wasn't concerned because while Voldemort wasn't dead, he wasn't alive either. A rebounded Killing Curse merely ejects the soul from the body, according to Helka's expertise. Because Voldemort was only a partial soul, he couldn't even become something like a ghost. As we're all aware, it took fourteen years for Voldemort to recover from this incident.
"Since Dagmar and Bjorn were otherwise unaffected, Hildegard carried on with her life. She became aware of Voldemort's disappearance by a Norwegian man named Magnus Norheim coming ashore the hafgufa. The two of them began a romantic relationship that lasted until January of 1982. By then, Magnus was aware of Voldemort's involvement with Hildegard and her two children. He attempted to take Dagmar and Bjorn. Dagmar was recovered by the huldra that lives on the hafgufa, but Magnus succeeded in taking Bjorn. He disappeared immediately after, and was not found until November eleventh of last year. His body was recovered in the Paris Catacombs. He had been murdered by Bellatrix Lestrange, according to witnesses. Bjorn was no longer with him, and Magnus had had his memory wiped as to what happened to him.
"After the events of December fourth, Voldemort fell back to the hafgufa along with Bellatrix, Alecto and Amycus Carrow, and Corban Yaxley. Voldemort's intention in visiting Bergen was to have some injuries treated by Dagmar before he commenced his search for Bjorn. This is what led to the events of January fourteenth at Azkaban. Voldemort wished to collect those imprisoned in his name and then travel to the Balkans to follow up on a lead from Magnus. Something he had told Bellatrix was that he travelled as far from Bergen as he could by floo. That was Bucharest, Romania.
"We know now what happened to Bjorn," Kingsley continued after another slight pause. To Draco's right, he saw Blaise's fingers slip into Luca's. "He was indeed taken to Bucharest, where he was left at the Auror office with no indication of his identity. He was adopted by the Head Auror at the time, Ekaterina Parasca, and named Luca. At the time Voldemort headed for the Balkans in January, Luca attended lessons as a seventh-year student at Hogwarts. I realized the connection while imprisoned on the hafgufa, thanks to the information fed to me by Narcissa Malfoy. Working backwards at Hogwarts, Harry Potter too realized who Luca was. Based on this information, Dumbledore prepared for a siege against Hogwarts. This indeed occurred on March fourth.
"The takeaway from this is that Voldemort, not Dagmar, intended to infiltrate Hogwarts in search for Luca. Voldemort, not Dagmar, had reason to kill Dumbledore. Voldemort—not Dagmar—was inclined to get Draco Malfoy out of the way so that he could finally kill Harry Potter.
"The evidence, witnesses, and memories all agree with these notions. Dagmar was nothing but an unfortunate passenger to Voldemort's goals. This concludes my opening statement."
"Very well," Madam Bones replied. She wrote something at her seat, gaze on her dashing quill. "Thank you, Mr Shacklebolt. I will now open the floor to the Wizengamot, if they have any questions before we move on to the witnesses."
A couple hands rose. Like at Draco's trial, some members sought clarification on a few points, and elaborations where unnecessary details had been skimmed. Draco relaxed with it, his heart finally calming down to some substantial degree. None of the questions begged to differ on Voldemort himself being the perpetrator. From what Draco could tell, they had accepted that as truth.
Madam Bones glanced around once Kingsley had answered a question. No more hands were raised.
"You may summon your first witness," Madam Bones told Kingsley.
Potter came first. So long as the outcome of this trial was good, Draco might lightheartedly tease him later about his solemn Auror persona. He spoke at length at Kingsley's prompts, going through his history with Dagmar and how she had become an informant for him and Professor Parasca during their investigation into Norheim. Potter discussed the science and magic of doppelgängers, and recounted his history with them as far as Hildegard, Dagmar, Helka, and Luca went. It ended with recounting the events down in the Chamber of Secrets.
Granger was next, in much the same vein. Mr Weasley followed to discuss the death golem. Ginny talked about her experience with Voldemort's diary, her friendship with Dagmar, and how the stark difference between the two of them made it clear who had arrived at Hogwarts. Helka emerged after, which compelled Potter to return to the floor so he could act as translator. Kingsley volunteered himself to show the Wizengamot what it looked like when only one soul was inside the body. Only one ball of light emerged in Helka's hand, compared to the two that revolved around each other when the same was done to Dagmar.
Helka took a seat next to Potter over where he'd sat behind Draco's parents. Madam Bones again wrote something down in the lull.
"Before I offer you the chance to provide your closing statement, Mr Shacklebolt," Madam Bones said, "I would like to ask Miss Ramstad something."
Dagmar raised her chin to Madam Bones.
"In the memories that we explored, we saw multiple instances of how you and Voldemort oscillated between control of your body. As the majority of witnesses corroborated, you only had it whenever Voldemort would grant it. You also showed the ability to fall asleep, as you described it, at will. I'm curious if the opposite is true. In an instance where Voldemort has made himself scarce, are you able to force him out by drawing yourself back?"
"I've never tried." Dagmar toyed with her fingers in her lap. "Are you asking me to?"
"If you're comfortable with it."
Dagmar pulled her bottom lip back between her teeth. Her gaze dipped, although rose slightly again when Kingsley bent down close to whisper with her. Draco didn't blame her hesitation, and a few people in the room similarly shifted in discomfort.
Kingsley stood straight again and moved to the side. With a slight jerk of his head, the shadow-Auror returned to the floor and mirrored Kingsley where he stood behind Dagmar.
"I'll try," Dagmar said.
Madam Bones nodded, and the courtroom fell further quiet yet. Everyone, Draco figured—including himself—held their breath. Dagmar's chin lowered, and she closed her eyes. Her shoulders rose and fell in slow rhythm. Some of the hair at the back of Draco's neck stood up when one telltale exhale sounded through the room's acoustics.
Dagmar's eyes opened again when her face still directed toward the floor. The flutter of her eyelashes showed how her gaze went left, right, and up, taking in the room while still in a passive position. Her chin inclined slightly before her gaze darted about again. Dagmar's cheeks pinched, almost as if she suppressed a smile.
It wasn't her anymore. Voldemort lifted Dagmar's gaze to the Wizengamot, then looked around the room again. He put his back flush against the chair and his arms on the rests. Some of the chains activated. They wrapped around Voldemort's upper arms. While they settled, Voldemort crossed his legs. The foot that dangled twitched upward before slowly falling back into place. It reminded Draco of Heimdall's tail when he noticed a bug he might try to hunt.
Voldemort stared at Madam Bones. Eventually, the smile he suppressed emerged with a touch of humour reaching Dagmar's eyes.
Amusement sounded in his voice too. "I've been summoned?"
Madam Bones returned his smile. "Good morning, Tom."
Voldemort's foot picked up in speed briefly. "What a lovely way to memorialize Dumbledore. He too was always so fond of the name I left behind. What is this, exactly? I was under the impression that punishment wasn't possible for me so long as Dagmar and I share space."
"It's Dagmar's trial," Madam Bone replied. "Part of Mr Shacklebolt advocating for her innocence is proving that you're alive inside of her and acted using her body. Would you have anything to say regarding the crimes she is being accused of?"
"Those being?"
Madam Bones listed them off again. When she finished, Voldemort seemed to drink in the silence of the room. It reminded Draco of nosing a glass of expensive wine before that first sip. He wondered if Voldemort could smell the apprehension that had blanketed all who still feared him.
"Of course," Voldemort said, "if Dagmar wanted her freedom, would she not be inclined to put on this little display? She could pretend for a few moments that she is me, give everyone a little spook, and then carry on with her life. Is there anything I could really say otherwise to convince this congress? What could I give you that this little club of turncoats hasn't?"
Voldemort looked over where Draco's parents sat. Draco caught himself against smiling in amusement, but felt better to realize he wasn't the only one. Blaise cleared his throat, and Theo pressed his lips.
Madam Bones spoke again. "Do you admit then that the charges I listed were committed by you?"
"Of course they were." Voldemort's voice was different from Dagmar's too, which became more apparent the longer he spoke. It sounded deeper with his flatter affect, and Dagmar's slight Norwegian accent disappeared in favour of practiced British posh. "Have I lost my touch to such a degree that my actions are so easily confused with those of an eighteen year old girl? My followers are loyal, but not to just anybody. Was Magical Britain so compromised that a relative nobody could stride in and nearly take it? I had Hogwarts. It was mine. And for the record, it was not me that lost it."
"Are you angry at the Death Eaters for that?"
Voldemort looked again over at Draco's parents. Draco couldn't see his face, but he imagined a withering gaze swept them over. Draco's dad maintained eye contact, but Hildegard looked away.
"Not at the ones sitting in Azkaban," Voldemort replied. "They have every right to be disappointed along with me. We came so achingly close to the world we'd been working toward for the last thirty years. I miss them, truly. They're my family. It bothers me that all their talent and potential has been lost to that rock in the middle of the sea."
"They have no one to blame but themselves for that."
"They acted under my direction. They trusted me to lead them, and I let them down."
Pensive silence fell over the courtroom. Draco felt his cheeks tighten in a slight grimace. Discomfort budded in his stomach, and he wished now that he sat closer to Potter so he could get a read on this feeling. He didn't like getting such a human view of the thing inhabiting Dagmar. There was no room for sympathy in ending this war once and for all.
"I see," Madam Bones said. "Is Dagmar still around?"
Voldemort's foot stilled. He looked around again, and Draco realized that he was gone when emotion returned to Dagmar's face. She slunk down in the chair as far as the chains around her upper arm would allow. Colour rose in her cheeks, and she clenched her hands.
"Thank you, Dagmar." Madam Bones' tone softened. "Your closing statement, Mr Shacklebolt?"
"I don't believe one is necessary," Kingsley replied. "The evidence speaks for itself."
"We shall put it to a vote of confidence, then," Madam Bones said. "Members of the Wizengamot, please raise your hand if you believe, based on the evidence and testimonies provided by Kingsley Shacklebolt, that Dagmar Ramstad is guilty of at least one crime she has been charged with."
Draco's heart ramped up into a painful rap against his ribs. He hardly noticed that Theo and Blaise's hands had slipped into his—he only squeezed back as they all watched for any sort of movement among the Wizengamot.
Nothing. Not a single hand.
Madam Bones smiled anew. "As determined today by the Wizengamot, Miss Ramstad, you are deemed innocent of the charges laid. However, due to Voldemort's lingering presence within you, I cannot yet say that you are free to go. Until Voldemort has either been removed or departs under his own volition, you will remain under house arrest. Do you understand these terms?"
"Yes," Dagmar breathed, awash in the same relief that plagued Draco. "I understand. Thank you."
"Then this concludes this session of the Wizengamot." Madam Bones banged a gavel. "We will reconvene at one o'clock."
The chains around Dagmar's upper arms relaxed, and Draco couldn't give a second thought to procedure. Nobody told him to sit back down when he stood, or to resume his seat when he 'excuse me'd and 'sorry'd his way along the row. He reached the door just as Dagmar stood from the chair. Draco had a feeling he would hit resistance if he actually entered the courtroom floor. He shifted impatiently from foot to foot as Dagmar made her way over. Her shining eyes mirrored Draco's happiness. When only a handful of steps separated them, Dagmar glanced back over her shoulder at Kingsley. He didn't look like he was going to stop her, so Dagmar rushed ahead of him and her shadow-Auror.
Draco crushed her against him in a hug. He found difficulty breathing too from the returned tightness in her grasp.
"Told you it'd be fine," he whispered.
"You did."
For all Draco knew, Voldemort still remained below the surface of Dagmar's psyche. He didn't care. It was more important to Draco that they celebrate this moment as it pertained to their future. This obstacle was out of the way. Dagmar would not go to Azkaban. She would never have to see the insides of its walls. Everyone knew she was innocent, that she was alive, and that things would be all right.
Through all that, Dagmar would be his, and Draco would be hers. Draco felt her slump slightly when he kissed her. Warm air washed down Draco's chin as a press of the lips compressed both their lungs. One of Dagmar's hands balled near Draco's shoulder as she gripped him.
Someone cleared their throat nearby. It was Kingsley. He smiled, eyes slightly tired in appearance. "Come on, you two. Malfoy Manor awaits."