CHAPTER 13: Home, Sweet Home
Italics ("Speech") = Spoken In French
As promised, Madeline arrived at her home in Grasse bright and early on boxing day, with just a small trunk in her hands for her short stay. She had taken the Hogwarts Express to Kings Cross, before taking a short tube journey to a tiny little French Cafe in Pimlico, which also happened to double as the location of a port key to an identical cafe in Grasse.
What many would never know was that Grasse was one of the most affluential places for wizards and witches in France. Being a Bisset, she was one of the few who knew of the easily accessible port keys, and how to find them. Her sudden apparition in the Grasse cafe was not a surprise for the cafe patrons, and let her out through the back to call for a carriage for herself.
Which left her outside the large mansion alone, with just her suitcase in hand.
She had lived in the Bisset mansion all her life. It was large and sophisticated, the 18th century structure surviving the test of time with beauty. The entrance, only visible to invited guests, would be found only if you dared duck between two curving trees, creating a fairytale-like passage.
Then, you would be greeted with deep cream stone steps. If you were to look up to your left, you'd find yourself looking at a rounded marble fence, which outlined the marbled patio of the home. At the top of the staircase, you'd be greeted with a large windowed door, it's frame painted with a muted green.
She didn't know why, but Madeline felt nervous. She was dressed in black jeans and a baggy knitted jumper, a black coat wrapped around her and her hair pulled in a loose ponytail. She most definitely didn't seem like the picture of aristocracy; she knew she should've worn one of the long velvet day-dress her grandmother had given her…
However, she didn't have much time to ponder before the face of her mother peered through the glass panels, a wide smile breaking on the womans face as she swung the door open.
And suddenly, everything felt right again.
"Darling!" Eloise Bisset smiled, enveloping Madeline in a warm hug, "Merry Christmas! And look at you! You must be freezing, come inside. Come on!"
"I'm fine, Mother," Madeline laughed, but let herself be dragged into the comfort of the warm French mansion.
Nothing had changed in the home. It was still as cold as it had been when she'd left, immaculately cleaned and perfectly decorated. The marble floors were polished to perfection, the entrance hall almost too welcoming, the smell of freshly-baked pastries wafting towards her.
"Your uncle and aunt are arriving tomorrow, as are the rest of the family," Eloise explained, an edge to her voice Madeline understood, "And your grandmother is in her study. Oh, she's been anxious to see you!"
She'd missed her house, she really had. Well, maybe she'd missed her mother more than the large empty house. It was so different to the lively common rooms and bustling corridors of Hogwarts, and it almost shrouded her in a loneliness she thought she'd shaken off.
Madeline hung her coat up onto a nearby hook, her suitcase still held tightly in her hand. Her mother scanned her for a few moments, a tight smile on her face.
"Lunch is going to be ready in about an hour. Perhaps you could freshen up before lunch?"
And there it was; her mothers suggestion, which was much more of an order than anything else.
"And then you can tell us all about Hogwarts," Eloise added.
"Alright," Madeline nodded, a tight smile on her face echoing her mothers own, "I'm happy to be home, mum. You know that, right?"
Her mothers smile suddenly became warmer as she squeezed her daughters arm, "I'm happy to have you home, darling."
Madeline's room had barely been touched in her absence. The muted green painted walls were as bare as always, the bookshelves still filled with textbooks and novels. The large canopied double bed still bore the same creamy silk sheets, the dark wooden floor unchipped and perfectly polished. The only sign that anyone had been in the room was the open door to the ensuite bathroom, displaying a brand new set of green towels hanging on the sink.
Madeline placed her suitcase on her desk, which now only held a few quills. She began unpacking, placing Evie's book on her shelf and her clothes in her wardrobe. It was weird to be unpacking in her own room. She felt like a stranger in a world she'd always lived in, but she knew the feeling would go away sooner or later.
She had a quick shower before sitting at her vanity, applying a light dash of makeup, something she'd fallen out of habit with. In Hogwarts, she hadn't had the time to do so every morning. She made sure her hair was sleek and straight, falling around her shoulders as it always did. It had grown a little longer during her time away; her grandmother would be pleased. It had always been a struggle to keep it a nice long length.
She decided to dress in the long muted green dress her grandmother had given her (the Bisset favourite colour, clearly), with small golden dangling earrings and the necklace her mother had given her. The dress hung with no defined shape down to her calves, the bottom decorated with a single ruffled hem. She slipped into sleek golden strapped slippers with low heels, the absolute epitome of obnoxious wealth.
Looking around the room, she couldn't help but silently judge herself for not having seen how ridiculously privileged the Bissets were. She was wearing golden slippers for Merlin's sake! Not to mention the grounds; they owned fields upon fields surrounding the mansion, and what would they ever use them for?
Madeline decided to make her way back down to the dining room, knowing better than to be late for a lunch with her grandmother. It may be the holidays, but Alodie Bisset tolerated lateness from no one.
Madeline stepped into the dining room hesitantly, the chatter between the two elder women dying down. As always, Alodie Bisset was seated at the top of the table, Eloise the next seat down, and Madeline would sit in the seat across from her.
"Ma petite fille," her grandmother greeted warmly as she spotter her, standing up with her arms outstretched, "Come here, my darling!"
Madeline smiled, quickly walking over to her grandmother and enveloping her in an airy hug. The two pulled apart with a quick kiss on the cheek, her grandmother holding her arms as she studied her.
"My my, you look beautiful," her grandmother complimented, "Although those pesky freckles are back… But none the matter! Sit, sit!"
Madeline smiled politely, moving to sit across from her mother. "How have you been?" she asked the two women.
"Oh, nothings changed," her grandmother mused as the house chef entered the room, two silver platters filled with small sandwiches placed between the women, "But I'm sure you've been on all sorts of adventures! But do tell me; how are your studies?"
"They're fine, grandmother. I'm the top of my class for Potions, actually."
"Really?" Alodie gushed, using pincers to pick up a couple of the sandwiches for her plate. Madeline and Eloise did the same, "But again, I wouldn't have expected any less! Now, tell me; a Slytherin? What exactly is that?"
Madeline nodded, thanking the chef as he filled their goblets with fresh spring water, "Hogwarts sorts every student into one of four houses. Each house values different traits, and Slytherins value ambition, leadership, self-preservation, cunning and resourcefulness. Each house had its own dormitory and common room."
"How… Cute," Alodie nodded along, "Are there many high-class families in Slytherin?"
"A few," Madeline nodded stiffly, "Do you know of the Greengrass and the Nott families?"
"Oh yes, excellent families!" her grandmother clapped her hands, "Your mother did say you'd befriended them; well done!"
"Thank you," Madeline took the compliment hesitantly.
"It's extremely important you keep contacts like that for the future. You know, you'll be sixteen before you know it!" her grandmother continued, Madeline tensing.
Turning sixteen meant one thing and one thing only in the Bisset family;
Head of the Family.
It was a concept that had been danced around her whole life. There had always been a chance her mother would have remarried and had a son, meaning Madeline would be exempt from the tradition, but the concept had been dashed years ago. It had remained unspoken, but suggested lightly by her grandmother and extended family, like she had now.
Her uncle was currently the head of the Bisset family, and her grandmother wanted her to take over for him when she was of age, which was only a few short years away. Her grandmother had pushed for her to find a husband early in life, so to secure an heir she'd approve of.
They'd never spoken about these arrangements out loud, but Madeline had assumed that it had been on the cards since she was young. But with her grandmother speaking so openly about it, with a clean undertone of confidence, a sinking feeling fell onto Madeline.
She looked at her mother, who barely touched the sandwiches, keeping her eyes on her glass.
"I'm still young," Madeline pointed out, "Uncle Claude doesn't need to step down for years-"
"Better get you ready early," her grandmother reminded her, "But enough family talk. Tell me Madeline, how are your other classes?"
Suddenly, Madeline was no longer hungry.
Lunch and dinner were tense events, with her grandmothers overbearing nature and her mothers tentative one.
Madeline had been sat on the outside patio with Evie's muggle book and a glass of cold juice after dinner, lit only by the few golden lanterns outside. A blanket was draped on her lap, yet the biting December chill still taunted her. She was tempted to slip back inside and grab another blanket, but before she could even get up, her mother stepped out of the side door and onto the patio, a warm fluffy blanket in her hands.
Madeline said nothing as her mother perched herself in the chair just to her left, the blanket remaining folded in her hands. Neither woman dared to speak for a few quiet minutes, the only sound in the winter night coming from Madeline turning the pages.
Surprisingly, Madeline was the first to break the silence.
"I'm going to be the next Head of the Family, aren't I?" Madeline asked plainly, not lifting her eyes from the book.
Eloise Bisset remained quiet.
"I was a fool," Madeline sighed, leaning back in her seat and gazing up to the stars, "I just spent months away from home thinking I could escape this."
"This shouldn't be something you need to escape," Eloise didn't meet her daughters eyes. Instead, she too looked up to the stars, "It's a great honour, you know."
"You would be the 'Head of the Family' if you hadn't married dad," Madeline stated, words that had remained unspoken between the two for far too many years, "You had a choice. But it looks like I don't."
Eloise paused, the silence enveloping the two girls. Eloise smiled softly up to the night.
"I will never regret you or your father. No amount of power or wealth could make me. I know you believe you have power over love, but I promise you I didn't," the woman replied, "I'm sorry that you have no choice, but sometimes paths are laid out for us for a reason."
"I'm not going to amount to just being a Bisset."
"Then don't," her mother finished with a smile, handing her the blanket as she stood up, "But you should hear your grandmother and your uncle out before you make any choices you might regret."
With that, Eloise left.
Madeline all but collapsed onto her bed that evening, falling asleep almost instantly. Her mind was flurried with thoughts of what her family had told her.
And, for the first time in months, she remembered what it was like to truly be a Bisset.
She woke up early the next morning; the twenty-seventh, when her relatives would be coming to celebrate christmas with them. She had yet another shower, dressing herself in a luxurious red velvet dress, much like the one she'd worn the day before, except this one fell just above her knees and bore some extra thrills. Of course, nothing eccentric. She slipped into some heeled winter boots and cast a quick charm on her hair to curl it softly.
With her makeup charmed on in an instant, she quickly dashed downstairs to help with any decorations or preparations. She doubted she would be needed really, with her grandmothers persistence on having the mansion staffed for the day, but she figured it would be much better to show her face nice and early. Perhaps it would earn her some favourable points with her relatives.
And thankfully she had, for her uncle and aunt had arrived early, standing in the entrance hall with her mother.
Now, Madeline knew her mother and grandmother could be… Intense, but her aunt and uncle were a far different story.
Her aunt Isabelle was a beautiful blonde-haired pureblooded woman, the only one left of her family line. The little family she'd had left had died following her marriage to Madeline's uncle, leaving her as the only heir to her family fortune, and the last to be able to carry on her legacy. Unfortunately, the pair never had children, leaving her to be her husbands trophy wife for the Bisset empire.
Her uncle was the current head of the Bisset family. He'd been the father figure in her life, or as much as he could be whilst living hours away. Claude Bisset was a stern, unsettling man, with a grin akin only to someone who had all the power in the world. In fact, he probably was one of the most powerful wizards in the French Wizarding World, not by magic, but by the power he held as the head of such an important family.
And her grandmother wanted her to follow in his footsteps.
"There she is," her uncle greeted her warmly, dressed in a shiny black suit. He opened his arms with a smile, and she quickly rushed into the hug.
Madeline hugged him and her aunt quickly, standing with her mother perfectly poised, her hands clasped together in front of her, "It's so good to see you both!"
"I'm glad you could make it back for the holidays," her aunt answered in French, "We heard about the Tournament, and-"
"Isabelle here was worried for her favourite niece," her uncle finished for her, a smirk on his face, "Now, I believe we have presents to open? I wouldn't want to keep your grandmother waiting!"
The small family sat formally around the living room fireplace, each with steaming hot cups of hot chocolate directly imported from Belgium. Although the fire was lit, the room felt cold, as it would every christmas. The charmed grand piano in the corner of the living room played the softest christmas melodies as the family chatted.
Presents had been exchanged quickly. Madeline had received a beautiful green scarf, new dresses, and far more jewellery she could ever wear. Her own presents hadn't been extravagant, but did include a rather nice bracelet for her mother.
The conversations fluctuated between Madeline's stay in Hogwarts, her uncles newest land purchase, and her grandmothers new fondness for Swedish food. It didn't feel particularly christmassy, but Madeline couldn't exactly expect any different. She listened politely and added her own comments when deemed appropriate, but eventually, the conversation grew more serious, turning to the one subject she had hoped to avoid.
"So Madeline," her uncle began, pointedly placing his mug onto the marble coffee table, "Although I hate to burden the holidays with business talk, I believe you're old enough to know what your future holds."
Madeline said nothing. She held her head up high, waiting for him to continue.
"In the summer, I will be heading a rather important meeting with other important families," her uncle continued vaguely, "In which, I will be announcing you as the future head of the family."
"Without consulting me?"
Her uncle frowned, turning to her mother, "Have you not discussed this with her?"
"Perhaps you should discuss it with me. Directly," Madeline interrupted, her uncle turning back to her.
"Very well," he sighed, turning to look at Eloise and Isabelle. The two women looked at each other before standing up, making their way out of the room, leaving Madeline alone with her uncle and her grandmother.
There was a tense silence in the air as Madeline sipped on her mug, the piano almost mocking in it's slightly jolly tune.
"Madeline; you are the only heir," her uncle began, standing up and moving to the fireplace. He gazed at the small amount of family pictures on the mantelpiece, "Sure, we have other relatives that would jump to the opportunity, but no one is more pureblooded than you. It is your destiny."
"I understand that, but I also believe that we can choose our destiny," Madeline answered primly, "I'm not saying I don't want to be the Head of the Family, but I'm too young to be thinking about it-"
"On the contrary my dear," her grandmother smiled, "Your grandfather was sixteen when he took over, and your uncle was twenty. You'll be absolutely fine."
"Something is coming Madeline," her uncle interrupted, his gaze still on the mantelpiece, "Something I'm sure your own mother is aware of, otherwise she wouldn't have sent you away."
"Are you suggesting I don't go back to Hogwarts?"
"On the contrary; the people you meet there may be of great use in the future," her uncle replied. Madeline felt chills as he casually suggested she used people, "But we will need you to be ready to take over when the time is right."
"And what exactly does it mean to 'take over'?" Madeline asked.
"It means you'll be representing the entire family in meetings and events-"
"But what are these meetings?!" Madeline interrupted, "Because there seems to be an awful lot of secrecy around something I'm supposed to swear my whole life to."
"Everything will be revealed when you turn sixteen, I promise you," her grandma interjected, trying to calm the situation down, "There are things happening in our communities that you need not to worry yourself with yet, my darling. But we also want to-"
"We need you to agree to take over," her uncle continued, "I need to present you as such in a meeting this summer. You won't be needed in attendance, don't worry. It is vital to the longevity of our bloodline-"
"I'm a person," Madeline interrupted calmly, "I am a young woman with dreams and desires. I am not going to let anyone amount me to just a family name."
"Oh darling," her uncle continued, a smirk on his face as he turned to her, "Who said you couldn't be both?"
"Excuse me?"
"The Bisset name and fortune will get you into any room you want, into any career you wish for," her uncle spoke, clearly from experience, "But that's exactly what it will be able to choose your own path. You could do great things, Madeline, if you decide to."
Madeline paused, thinking. That's what she wanted, wasn't it? To be great?
She thought back to that fateful day in the Great Hall, when she'd been sorted into Slytherin. She could've chosen Gryffindor, she knew that, but Gryffindor would make her safe. Not great. And she had chosen Slytherin to be great.
The cunning, ambitious side of her screamed to take the offer. Her ambition had been carefully cultivated by her mother, pushing her to strive for things others may never even dream of. Her heritage and ancestors had designed a life for her that would lead to this. She didn't know what she wanted to do when she was older, but she knew she didn't want to just equate her worth to her family name, because it wasn't fair.
And thats what was casting doubt into her mind; fairness. Being a good person. She had seen first hand what power did to people; she'd seen it with Malfoy for Merlins sake! She didn't want to become a spoilt, arrogant, aristocratic woman. She wanted to be admired, but fear didn't equate to admiration.
And yet, at the end of the day, she was still a Slytherin. She was still cunning, still ambitious, and forever self-preserving.
"I'll do it," she finally announced, looking at her uncle fearlessly, "When the time comes, I'll take over."
"Excellent! We knew you'd-"
"But," Madeline interrupted, her jaw set and her eyes gleaming with fire; the image of a powerful woman, "I want to finish my studies through to the end of my school years in Hogwarts."
"That can be arranged," her grandmother agreed.
"And although I understand that as the only heir I need to marry into a good family, I will fall in love on my own terms," Madeline concluded, her gaze set firmly on her grandmother.
The elder woman pursed her lips tightly, but nodded with finality, "It's settled then."
Madeline felt a sinking feeling in her stomach as she realised that she'd left Hogwarts to come home, but perhaps the place she called home was where the real snakes truly lay.
Christmas dinner was a far more festive event, Madeline even managing to crack a few smiles and laughs as her family spoke about past adventures and balls. Food was served and eaten until the late evening hours, Eloise Bisset insisting on the house staff to be sent home for the evening as to allow them to see their own families.
Which left Madeline to offer to take the dishes to the kitchen, finally giving her a few minutes of peace and quiet.
I'm going to be the Head of the Family.
Those words kept ringing in Madeline's ears. She knew something was coming, because her mother had known something was coming months ago. And to be in such a position of power most likely would mean she would have to face it eventually. She would be thrown into the deep end the moment her uncle stepped down, and there was no way out.
"What's up, kiddo?"
Madeline turned to find her aunt also carrying dishes to the sink, the laughter ringing from the dining hall seeming far, far away. Her aunt held a kind smile on her face, placing the dishes elegantly by the kitchen sink.
"Nothing," Madeline lied, "Holiday fatigue, you know?"
"Seems to me more like you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders."
Her aunt leant against the kitchen counter, crossing her arms over her chest. She wore a dark pink blouse and a dark green midi pencil skirt, with pink and gold embroidery covering the majority of it. She was the picture perfect aristocratic woman, something Madeline was destined to become.
"It's all real now, isn't it?" Madeline sighed, closing her eyes.
"Perhaps it is," her aunt replied, a far away look in her eyes, "You know… Whenever I see you smile or laugh, it reminds me so much of your father."
Madeline opened her eyes, looking at her aunt curiously, "I didn't realise you knew him well."
Her aunt smiled, "I went to school with him before I came to work in France. Granted, I was a Slytherin, and a few years older than him, but he was a cracking Quidditch player and had a brilliant mind."
"So I've heard," Madeline smiled, turning to look out of the window and onto the dark grounds of the mansion.
How different would her life be if she was a Dearborn, and not a Bisset?
"Something is coming."
Madeline snapped her head round to her aunt as she uttered the statement, "What?"
"Something dark is coming," her aunt repeated, the same faraway look in her eyes, "Claude knows that. And I believe your mother has her suspicions too. When it comes to judgement day, women like us need to know how to take care of ourselves."
Isabelle Bisset took her wand out of her sleeve, waving it once over the dishes as they began to clean and dry themselves. Her eyes met Madeline's, a fire burning in them that had been concealed for far too long.
"No one has taught you how to duel, have they?"
"Well, no. Not really."
"Well then you better visit me this summer," her aunt winked.
The wand was returned to her sleeve. The woman spun on her heel, and elegantly walked out of the room, as if she hadn't just opened a whole new world for her niece.
Madeline, Eloise and Isabelle busied themselves inside the home as Claude and Alodie Bisset made their way to the patio, both with thin cigarettes between their fingers.
Shrouded in thick coats, the pair closed the glass doors of the mansion behind them, casting a silencing charm on the door and stepping into the cold darkness of the night.
"She's young," Alodie began, lighting the cigarettes with a wandless incantation, "Barely more than a child."
Claude took a long drag of the cigarette, breathing the smoke out softly, "A pity, for someone so young. But it must be done."
Alodie nodded in agreement, "The Dark Lord will be pleased with her, I'm sure."
"She holds the most important key to his victory, perhaps even more important than that Potter boy," Claude continued, scoffing, "Caradoc must be turning in his grave knowing his sacrifice has become her downfall."
"Careful of your words Claude," Alodie reprimanded her son, "We do not speak ill of the dead, even traitors like Caradoc. He got what was coming to him, and soon so will Madeline. No need to cast more ill will onto him."
Claude smirked, tapping his cigarette, "We must play the waiting game mother. It is only a matter of time before the pieces start falling into place."
Alodie smiled, taking a drag of the cigarette.
"You always were my favourite."