Author's Notes: Thank you for the lovely review ArtRat, I'm so glad you're enjoying it :) They'll get their fantasy eventually, but maybe not as soon as they'd both like!

Hello as well to everyone who is reading along and has favourite/followed the story, I'm glad you're enjoying it!

Chapter 7: Muggles and Madness

Sunday dawned cold and clear, and as the morning light assaulted his closed eyes Draco felt a knot of dread form in his stomach.

Last day.

Last day before reality came back and crushed his perfect little world.

He whimpered softly and captured her lips in a kiss even before she had fully awoken. She responded though, latching onto him and letting her tongue flick over his lips in a ridiculously seductive manner. He was tempted to just stay in bed with her and have a repeat of last night, but he really needed a shower and some breakfast.

He also needed to speak to her.

"Madeleine?"

She pulled away and looked at him, eyes giving nothing away, until she frowned and placed one finger over his lips.

"Don't, Draco. I know what you're going to say. Just shut up ok? We'll talk about it later."

He frowned, but then nodded. Much as he didn't like being told what to do he really didn't want to talk about it either. Later was fine with him.

They sat together at breakfast, spent the morning by the lake again and then sat together at lunch. Afterwards they spent a couple of hours in the library, until Madeleine revealed that she really needed to return to her common room as she had promised her little first year hangers-on that she would help them finish their homework. It annoyed Draco, but he didn't want to fall out with her so he simply nodded and packed away. Grumbling to himself when she smirked at his frown and gave him a kiss which meant he couldn't keep it up.

She knew him too well.

Damn it!

It was on his way to the common room that he overheard the conversation.

He was passing Slughorn's office when he heard McGonagall's voice from the other side. She visited the dungeons rarely enough that this in itself was interesting. He paused and moved closer, listening to the conversation. He was pretty sure he'd heard a familiar name being said.

"Have you noticed she seems to be spending a lot of time with him?" That was McGonagall. Draco frowned. Was she talking about him? The way she'd said the word him hadn't sounded like it was anyone she liked.

"What do you mean, Minerva?" Slughorn sounded flustered.

"At meals, they're sitting together. They sometimes talk when they think no ones watching." Damn that nosy old cow! How had she noticed them doing that?

"Well, it's not a crime to talk to someone is it? The boy seems to have improved since last year, he isn't entirely unpleasant." It was definitely him they were talking about, Draco realised.

"Horace!" McGonagall sounded scandalised, but then she lowered her voice and Draco was forced to press his ear nearer the keyhole to make out her words. "You know what the boy is. You know what him and all the Malfoy family stand for. In all his time at this school I've never seen him exchange a civil word with anyone from my House. Why would he suddenly talk to her? Think about what it might mean!"

"My dear, Minerva, you're not suggesting that Madeleine…?" Slughorn sounded rather like he was going to faint. Draco knew how he felt.

"I don't know what I'm suggesting, Horace, she seems such a nice girl, but her parents… you know."

"Yes." The potions Professor sounded almost resigned now, but Draco's head was spinning. What was McGonagall saying about Madeleine's parents? They weren't Death Eaters were they? Draco didn't remember anyone of her surname from any of the meetings, but then of course he hadn't been paying that much attention.

"And much as it pains me to say it, she wouldn't be the first Gryffindor to betray us all."

"Yes," Slughorn's voice was very faint now. Draco could almost picture him gripping onto a chair for support, "Poor Lilly and James. Terrible, terrible business. Their best friend, as well…"

Wormtail.

Draco felt like he was going to be sick. How could that cow be comparing Madeleine... his perfect, beautiful Madeleine, to that disgusting little worm of a man?

He didn't wait to hear anymore, he turned and fled for the seventh floor. The only thought in his head to get to Madeleine and warn her that her Head of House was convinced she was a Death Eater.

Draco had never heard anything more stupid in his life.

The problem was he didn't know where the Gryffindor Common Room was. He ran aimlessly around the seventh floor until he very nearly ploughed into a small girl carrying a stack of books.

He snarled at her in annoyance, but then realised who she was and grabbed her arm.

"Where's Madeleine?" he demanded, ignoring the girl's terrified look. He shook her slightly when she didn't answer. Not enough to hurt, she was only a kid after all, but enough to bring her to her senses.

"In… in the common r…room."

"Get her for me." The girl continued to look at him in terror and he released her arm. "Now!"

With a terrified squeak the girl fled, and Draco subsided onto a nearby window seat to wait.

A few minutes later Madeleine came flying around the corner.

"What the hell did you do to Martha?" she snapped as soon as she saw him, "And what the hell do you think you're doing here anyway?"

It was more than Draco's nerves could stand. He grabbed her elbows, pulled her towards him and kissed her hard on the mouth. She froze, responded briefly, and then pushed him away, still looking annoyed, though a little less so now.

"You didn't terrify the life out of a first year just to do that, Draco," she said firmly, when she had managed to extract herself from his failing grasp, "What's going on?"

Now she was here Draco didn't really know what to say. Eventually he gave up and blurted out, "McGonagall thinks you're a Death Eater."

Madeleine's mouth dropped open, and then she laughed, as if she couldn't quite believe what she was hearing and the idea was too ridiculous not to. Draco felt that he might as well go all the way and added, "And she seems to think your parents are as well." The laughter stopped.

"My parents are not Death Eaters, Draco," she snapped, her glare suggesting that further comment on the subject of her parents would be a mistake. Draco subsided and let her be for a moment. He noticed she seemed to have turned three shades whiter since her parents had been mentioned.

"This is your fault," she snapped finally.

"I know." Draco never admitted he was in the wrong. He wasn't sure why he was doing it now, but he did feel very much like this was his fault and he wanted to make it better. The idea that McGonagall thought Madeleine could ever be mixed up in his very fucked up world was so repulsive that it made his stomach turn. Stupid cow had no idea what it was really like. She couldn't do. If she did she would never have suspected Madeleine.

His admission did seem to have one good effect. Madeleine's frown vanished and was replaced by a vague look of surprise.

"All right, never mind," she said, "I'm not a Death Eater am I so it doesn't really matter. Just… maybe we shouldn't sit next to each other at dinner. She'll get over it eventually."

"No." Draco reached out and grabbed her hand. "It does matter. I don't want her thinking that about you." Those piercing blue eyes were looking at him with that searching expression and he found himself chewing his lip as he added, "It's disgusting. You would never do anything like that. She's being stupid and she needs to know it."

Madeleine snorted derisively, "Maybe I'll just wave my arm in her face then, that will show her I don't have the mark."

Draco flinched, the reminder of what was emblazoned up his own arm not at all welcome. He sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"To be honest I don't think she really thinks you're a proper Death Eater with the mark and everything." He admitted, "I think she just thinks you're generally in favour of them. You know, that you hate muggles and… stuff." Like my mother, he added silently in his head.

Madeleine seemed to have gone another shade paler at that, though Draco didn't know why it should disturb her more than the more serious accusation that she had the mark on her arm. She was silent for a minute, and even turned away, massaging her temples briefly before turning back. When she did she looked much more composed.

"This is the weirdest conversation I've ever had, Draco." Her expression was carefully neutral again, though there was now just a hint of amusement in her eyes. "And the stupidest thing I've ever been accused of. What the hell happened to my life?"

"You slept with a Death Eater remember?" Draco pointed out bitterly. He didn't like this. He didn't want to remember what he technically was. And he definitely didn't know what she had to be so amused about. His perfect little fantasy world was breaking apart sooner than it was supposed to.

"Yeah," she said vaguely. "I guess Professor McGonagall doesn't know me that well."

Draco laughed humourlessly, "Probably never seen you reading those shitty muggle books."

"Hmmm." Madeleine looked thoughtful for a second, and Draco wondered exactly what she was planning. Whatever it was though he didn't ask, because a moment later she climbed onto the window seat, wrapped her arms around him and started peppering his cheek with little kisses.

"Don't you think, in the circumstances, that here is a bit public to be doing that?" he said coldly, trying desperately to keep his guard up as she trailed the kisses down his neck. He thought he'd made his point when she pulled away, but instead she just moved her lips round to his and hovered in front of him, just like she had so often only a few weeks before.

Was that really all it was?

"Haven't you heard, Draco? I'm a muggle hating Gryffindor who's sleeping with a Death Eater."

It didn't sound nearly so bad when she said it.

After some very heated kisses, full of passion and a promise of more to come later, Madeleine had left him on the window seat with a declaration that they should sit next to each other at dinner after all. He had sat and gazed out of the window for quite some time after she had left, the tingle of her kisses still on his lips as he realised that tomorrow this all had to end. Real life was already intruding. Tomorrow it would come back with a bang.

Tomorrow he couldn't allow himself to know her.

When dinnertime arrived he stretched out his cramped limbs and headed downstairs. He met McGonagall on the way, who seemed surprised to see him coming down the main staircase to dinner instead of up from the dungeons and he treated her to his very best scowl.

He hated her even more than usual right now.

To annoy her he took the seat nearly opposite her at the dinner table and occupied himself in shooting her murderous glares until Madeleine arrived and true to her word, took the seat next to him and opposite McGonagall.

There was a book in her hand, which she flipped open and started reading as soon as she'd helped herself to some food, balancing it in her left, whilst eating with her right. Nobody batted an eyelid at this, the Ravenclaws often read at the table and Draco had seriously considered doing so himself over these holidays since he had no one to talk to, except that he'd been brought up not to and it felt oddly like a betrayal of his mother to do so when she was not there to berate him.

What sort of betrayal was sleeping with a blood traitor?

Pushing that thought aside he snuck a glance at the cover of the book. It was her copy of 'My Life As A Muggle'.

Clever.

"Madeleine, may I have a look at that book you're reading?" McGonagall had obviously noticed now and was holding out her hand for the volume. Madeleine handed it over without a word, her expression betraying no sign that this was anything other than completely normal.

McGonagall examined the book as if she expected it to be something else, and then asked, in what Draco thought was a very bad example of acting casually.

"Is this from the library?"

"No." Madeleine was either genuinely surprised by the question, or she was faking it very well. "It's mine. I bought it in Flourish and Blotts over the summer."

McGonagall was now showing the book to Slughorn, who beamed with relief at the sight of it. Draco wasn't surprised. Madeleine was one of his little pets, and he hadn't sounded at all happy in his study earlier. This was clearly enough to restore his faith in her.

"Oh, an excellent choice, dear," he said, plucking the book from McGonagll's hands, "I know Daisy very well of course. Are you enjoying the book?"

"Oh yes," Madeleine, accepted it back from him with a smile, "It's fascinating to find out how they survive without magic. I've got 'The Home Life and Habits of British Muggles' too. Of course I took Muggle Studies at Beauxbatons and got my OWL, but it's interesting to read about the difference between British and French muggles."

"Yes, of course, of course, " Slughorn said genially. Draco rather though the revelation about her Muggle Studies OWL had stunned McGonagall into silence.

Very clever.

After a few more exchanges on the subject of Daisy and her book, which Draco listened to with only half an ear, Madeleine resumed her reading and Draco felt her legs tangling with his under the table. He was going to miss that when they went back to their normal tables.

He risked a glance across at her then, but she was absorbed in her book and he found his eyes drawn to the picture on the page. It was moving, like all pictures in magical books. There was a muggle standing next to some sort of fireplace. It was a small fire, and didn't seem to have much of a chimney, but there were coals arranged extremely neatly in the grate. The muggle in the picture messed about with some sort of dial underneath where the ash grate should have been and the coals burst into flames.

Draco blinked.

How had that happened?

He watched the little sequence repeat itself, but he couldn't work it out. The muggle hadn't touched the coals and yet they were on fire. If he hadn't known it couldn't possibly be magic, he would have thought it was.

Madeleine turned the page and he tore his gaze away. McGonagall was watching him he realised and he scowled at her again, returning to his plate of food. He ate steadily for a while, avoiding looking up, until he felt Madeleine shift next to him.

She had propped the book up on her goblet now and was using her knife and fork to eat properly. Without really meaning to Draco found himself looking at the picture on her current page.

A muggle was bent over a pile of wood. He scrapped a small stick along a box and it produced a tiny flame, which he used to light the wood and make a fire. Draco had seen this before. When his father had taken him into the camp at the Quidditch World Cup one of the Ministry Officials, a genial looking man with a bald head, had been using them to try and light his fire. Draco had been fascinated when the first one had burst into flames, though the wizard had immediately dropped the thing in horror. Draco couldn't understand how scraping a stick against a box could produce a flame then, and he didn't understand it any better now. The wizard had informed him that the tiny sticks were called matches, but his father had dragged him away and berated him for showing any interest in filthy muggle habits before Draco could find out anything else.

"Matches."

"What?" Draco snapped, realising that Madeleine was addressing him and tearing his treacherous eyes away from the book. How could he have been so stupid as to be caught out twice?

"They're matches," she said, eyes still travelling over the text in the book as if she wasn't actually speaking at all, "Muggles use them to light fires."

"I know what matches are for thank you very much," he said bitterly, his annoyance at being caught showing an interest in her book making him temporarily forget that he wasn't supposed to know anything of the sort. Madeleine's head snapped up and she looked at him, one eyebrow raised questioningly, but he scowled at her so darkly that she almost immediately turned back to her book. He could feel the tinge of pink creeping over his cheeks and he kept his head down. He'd heard McGonagall's indrawn breath at his words and he really didn't want to see her face right now.

Fucking nosy cow.

Fucking idiotic muggles.

Draco's temper lasted until after dinner. So much so that he spent half an hour in the common room before he went up to the room on the seventh floor, compelled to go only because it might be the last night he got to spend with Madeleine.

That this meant more to him than his own temper tantrum was not even worth thinking about.

When he arrived Madeleine was sitting cross-legged and bare foot on the bed again, reading that same stupid book.

"Still reading that shit?" he said testily as he pulled off his own shoes and sat down too, propping himself up against the pillows.

"Yes, I'm still reading this shit," she said neutrally, turning the page and not looking up at him. That only increased his irritation.

"Fucking McGonagall," he swore, to relieve some of his feelings on the matter.

"It was a clever idea though wasn't it?" Madeleine said, finally glancing across at him with a smirk on her face, "Admit it."

Draco scoffed, though he didn't attempt to contradict her.

"I don't know what surprised her more," Madeleine continued, apparently now absorbed by her book again, "Me liking Muggles or Draco Malfoy actually knowing what matches are."

"Fuck off."

That got him a raised eyebrow, though nothing more, until she turned the page.

"What else do you know about muggles, Draco?" She asked the question almost accusingly, as if he had been deliberately hiding things from her.

Draco snorted derisively, "They're idiots."

Another raised eyebrow. "Do you know how matches work?"

"No." He didn't, but even if he had known he would hardly have admitted it at this point. It was bad enough that he knew that one small piece of information about them, never mind anything more in depth.

"Who's the idiot then?"

Fuck.

He'd walked right into that one.

"Fuck off, Madeleine."

She sighed and threw the book to one side, crawling over to him and arranging herself in his lap. She wound her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his torso, straddling his hips. He let her, but only because he was fuming too much to actually bother reacting. Who the fuck did she think she was? He frowned harder at her.

"The way I see it, Draco," she purred, not sounding in the slightest bit annoyed at his behaviour, "We can spend the night arguing or we can spend the night fucking. Which one shall we go for?"

Double fuck.

He clutched at her face and slammed his lips into hers in hard, frustrated kisses, feeling her instantly react against him and curl her fingers in his hair, pulling at it so hard it actually hurt. Draco savoured the pain. It cut through all the irritations of the day and put everything right again.

They tumbled over and around each other, fingernails scratching, teeth nipping, hands clawing desperately, arching their bodies together as they both took what they needed from the other. It was fast and frantic and Draco felt drunk on her flesh and the friction of it all as they slammed their bodies together, creating a quick, dizzying climax that left him fuzzy headed and weak limbed.

When they had recovered they did the only logical thing and repeated the experience. Slow and considered this time, repairing their shattered thoughts and soothing their souls with gentle kisses and tender touches, easing themselves to a second climax that washed away all before it and cleansed Draco's mind and body.

He held her tightly afterwards. He never wanted to let go. Never wanted this to end.

The next day at breakfast, now dressed in their school uniforms, which marked them out more clearly than ever as a Slytherin and a Gryffindor, they once again sat together, as far away as possible from McGonagall's prying eyes. Draco ate his cereal with the wrong hand; the fingers of his other were laced around Madeleine's under the table.

By some mutual unspoken agreement they returned to the room after breakfast and sat together on the bed, looking at each other for a long time before either of them spoke.

"This has to stop." Draco had been the first to break the silence.

"I know."

"I'm supposed to hate you."

"Because I'm a filthy Gryffindor blood traitor? I know."

"I'm a Slytherin and a Death Eater."

"I know that too."

"You're supposed to hate me."

A contemptuous laugh from Madeleine was all the reply he got to that. He tried again.

"This wasn't supposed to happen."

"I know." Pause. "We agreed it wasn't real life anyway."

"Real life starts again right now."

No more kisses.

No more sex.

No more Madeleine.

Draco didn't know which of those was worst.

"Right now?" Madeleine had raised her hand to his face, and drawn nearer, letting her eyelids flutter shut as she positioned her lips just an inch from his own. "I'd rather real life waited till after lunch."

So would he. He gave in, kissed her like a dying man and let himself drown in her everything again.

Afterwards they dozed, wrapped in each other's arms one last time until they couldn't put it off any longer. They dressed and kissed. Draco pulling Madeleine so hard against him that they could hardly breath. He didn't care. He wanted… needed to imprint the memory of her taste and her touch and her scent onto his brain.

No more Madeleine.

His life was so fucked up.

He had resolved that he would keep away from her at lunchtime. He needed to practise for later when he would be back at his house table with his fellow Slytherins. He had vaguely mentioned it to her, but he'd forgotten…

Forgotten that Madeleine was tenacious and controlling and a ridiculous tease.

She waltzed into lunch, hair pulled back in a rough ponytail, uniform still rumpled from where she had just pulled it on earlier when they'd got out of bed and sat herself down next to him, giving him a wicked smirk.

She smelt like sex.

She looked like she'd just been fucked.

He shot her a horrified glance and tried to slide up the bench a little further away from her, eyes seeking out McGonagall who was looking at Madeleine with pursed lips. If the silly old cow didn't work out what the hell was going on now, then Draco really despaired of her having any brains at all.

His only consolation was that he had showered and changed into a fresh uniform, which at least meant he didn't look like the counterpart of her depraved behaviour.

He knew damn well why she'd done it. Stupid little Gryffindor didn't like not being in control of her life and apparently didn't like not being in control of him. He scowled at her, annoyed that her scent was assaulting his brain and making him want to drag her out of there and back to bed.

She caught his eye and smirked at him again.

He ate as quickly as he could and then left.

If she had managed to get him to smirk back during dessert, it was only because she looked too damn sexy to be allowed.

He had escaped to the skies after lunch, only coming down when it was dark and he'd seen the carriages coming up the road from Hogsmeade station. He'd managed to get to the Entrance Hall before they'd arrived and now he was hanging around, trying to look nonchalant and trying to remember that he should not… must not, look at Madeleine.

Students started pouring through the doors, laughing and chatting, heading through into the Great Hall for the start of term dinner. He saw Longbottom and the Weasley girl greeting Madeleine. There was some conversation and he saw Madeleine's face drop – what had happened? She met his eyes and gave him a reproachful look.

Real life was definitely back.

A pair of arms was suddenly flung around his neck and someone tried to kiss his cheek.

"Draco!" Pansy cooed into his ear. He made a noise of disgust and pushed her away, wondering when she was going to get the hint that he did not want any physical affection from her. Behind her Blaise was giving him an odd look.

"Good holidays?" he asked, just for something to say. Blaise continued to look at him strangely and Draco began to feel uncomfortable. "What?" he snapped.

"What happened to you?" Blaise was looking at him as if he was a stranger and Draco self consciously raised a hand to his face, wondering if he had something there that could in any way embarrass him. Had Pansy managed to smear lipstick all over him when she'd tried to kiss him?

"Nothing happened to me," he snapped, annoyed at his friend. Blaise shrugged in response.

"Something's definitely happened to you. Maybe you should look in a mirror."

Draco gave in and borrowed Pansy's compact mirror, but it was small and all he managed to establish was that he didn't actually have anything stuck to his face.

The next morning in the bathroom he remembered Blaise's words and leant on the sink, looking at himself properly in the mirror for the first time since before the holidays.

He realised what Blaise had meant.

Gone were the dark circles under his eyes and the haunted, hollow look to his features. He'd put on some weight, and he looked better for it. His skin was still pale as always, but it looked glowing now, the greyish tinge had gone and his white-blonde hair looked healthy and soft, like it had some life in it.

Some of his old Malfoy vanity came surging back as he gazed at his reflection, looking more like his old self than he had in years.

He looked alive.

He felt alive.

He wondered vaguely how long it would last.