Chapter 25: Detention
Chapter Warning: umm… a little bit of spice. (Also, we all know what Umbridge's quill does.)
A Few Weeks Ago, August
12 Grimmauld Place
Harry eyed Sirius, Remus and Moody warily. The group had been left alone for the first time since Moody had given Harry the photo of the Order of The Phoenix, and with the Weasleys and Hermione tucked into bed, Harry had questions.
Because one name had struck out to him more than any other.
"I know his daughter," Harry pointed out Caradoc Dearborn in the picture to the other men.
Sirius raised his eyebrow, a hint of a smile on his face, "The old man really did end up marrying her?"
"He swore he would," Remus nodded thoughtfully, "Always thought him and Mary would make a lovely couple."
"She's in Hogwarts now," Harry continued, "His daughter, I mean. In Slytherin. Her name is Madeline Bisset."
Remus almost spit his tea out at the name. Sirius spluttered, and Moody's eyes widened. Clearly, not the reaction Harry had expected.
"Bisset?" Moody pressed, "Boy, are you sure?"
"Positive," Harry nodded, "She, uh, was Cedric's friend."
The three men looked at each other, or rather, Remus and Moody looked at Sirius. The man sighed, leaning back into his chair.
"Harry, the Bissets were on The Dark Lord's side during the war," Sirius began explaining, eyes fixed on Harry, "Caradoc became a target because of them, as did the Order. They breed bad blood throughout their bloodline. They're as bad as the Malfoy family, Harry. Or even my own."
Harry furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "But Madeline isn't - she's not like Malfoy at all. Hell, she's dating Fred!"
"She's what?!" Sirius pressed, "Does Molly know about this?!"
Harry nodded, "She met her."
"I'd be wary either way Harry," Remus interrupted, shaking his head, "Caradoc was far too good of a man to have died so young. He was a friend of ours back in Hogwarts, but… The war, Harry. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named wanted something from him, something he wasn't willing to give up."
"What was it?" Harry pressed.
"We don't know," Moody cut in, "Caradoc was an inventor. Had he lived, I am sure he would've revolutionised the way we use magic. He was one of the brightest wizards I've ever met. No one truly knows what happened on the day of his disappearance. Rumours were circulating that he was engaged to Eloise Bisset, but he denied everything once the war began.
"They might be a French family, but their reputation stretches far beyond," Moody continued, "I've seen the terror and power they have with my own two eyes. Each and every Bisset-blooded wizard I have ever met has blood on their hands."
Harry huffed, "So, what are you saying?"
"We're saying," Sirius cut back in, leaning towards Harry, "That any Bisset is bad news. Their bloodline is built on prejudice. Their wealth? Unmeasurable, and that gives them far more power than any one family should wield. And if Madeline is the heir of that, she's not someone you should be around."
"And what about Fred?" Harry pressed, "She hasn't exactly tried to hex him or throw him off the viaduct."
"He shouldn't be dating her," Sirius shook his head, "Young love is blind and stupid, Harry. Do not trust her."
Unbeknownst to the four men, Fred Weasley had once more equipped his Extendable Ear to listen in to the conversation. And quite frankly, he wished he hadn't.
Present Day
The Gryffindor Tower
"Dead girl walking coming through!" Fred announced playfully, hands on both of Madeline's shoulders as he steered her through the Gryffindor common room.
Madeline laughed, swatting his hands away as they took a seat on one of the sofas, "It's just detention."
It was the night of her detention, the clock slowly inching towards seven o'clock. Of course, the news of Harry's shouting match had travelled through Hogwarts at an unbeatable speed, Madeline's involvement following suit. Everyone eyed her with wary eyes, only deterred by Madeline's cold glares. No one dared whisper or gossip about her, not ever. Because quite frankly, everyone was scared of what the Slytherin could and would do.
Rain pounded on the windowpanes of the Gryffindor tower, as it had for the last two days. People were making their way down to dinner, the only people left in the tower being Madeline, Fred, George, Neville, Hermione, and Ron, all huddled around the fireplace.
"Dunno why they let the old hag teach us," Ron grumbled.
"Because, no one ever wants the job. They say it's jinxed," Hermione pointed out as Madeline draped her legs over Fred's lap.
Although they'd only been back in Hogwarts for two days, Madeline and Fred were growing closer by the second. It seemed that distance really did make the heart grow fonder, Fred lightly tracing the tops of her shins with his fingers as Madeline took the clipboard George had just handed her, looking over their dosages and ingredients in their newest product, 'Fainting Fancies'. She circled a couple of ingredients, writing suggested dosage adjustments before handing it back to George.
Ron and Hermione were both scribbling on different sets of parchments, no doubt trying to keep up with the masses of homework flooding in from their teachers. Madeline, Theo and Daphne had already made their way through the majority of it, a lone Charms essay waiting in Madeline's room for after her detention.
"Angelina is in a right strop with Harry," George mentioned, "He's going to have to miss tryouts for detention on Friday. She's pissed."
"As she should be," Fred nodded in agreement.
"It's not his fault she gave him detention," Ron argued.
"Yeah, but it's done us a right screw up," George pointed out, standing up and stretching his arms in the air, "I'm going to dinner. Anyone else?"
Ron grumbled but followed suit, tucking his parchment and quill away. Neville too followed, as well as Hermione as she signed the end of her parchment with a flourish. Fred and Madeline, however, stayed firmly planted on the Gryffindor sofa.
"I've eaten," Madeline shrugged, turning to her boyfriend, "You can go if you want, mind."
Fred shook his head, "I tested some of the Puking Pastilles. Don't really feel back to normal yet."
Madeline wrinkled her nose but nodded as the others made their way out of the common room, leaving the couple alone. Madeline sighed, leaning back into the sofa.
The Gryffindor common room was smaller than her own, but it was homely and cosy all the same. Banners with the Gryffindor crest hung from each wall, red fluffy blankets strewn over armchairs. It felt a little bit like warm hug from an aunt. She could easily fall asleep here, no problem.
"Don't fall asleep on me now," Fred teased, poking her side, as if he could read her mind.
Madeline rolled her eyes, lifting her head, "Entertain me before detention then."
Fred smirked, easily accepting the challenge. In an instant, he'd grabbed Madeline's ankles, sliding her forwards and onto his lap. She laughed, her head now on his shoulder and her legs dangling off the side.
"Awake now?" He teased, leaning down towards her face.
"Try again," Madeline challenged, her eyes falling shut as their lips met.
And oh, she'd missed this.
It was a chaste kiss at first, barely anything to swoon over. But Madeline had grown… Rather confident over the summer. Her hand snaked to the back of his head, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as she dove in for another kiss, pulling herself up and over, now straddling his lap.
Oh yes, she loved having a boyfriend.
The kisses weren't frantic. Fred's hands rested on her waist as their lips moved together, a smile on his face as both her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. His thumbs drew lazy circles over her hips, a quiet giggle leaving her mouth. Yep; Fred Weasley just made her giggle. She'd never admit it if you asked.
She laughed as his hands moved to her legs, pulling them closer to himself as he switched them over, Madeline's back on the sofa as he held himself over her. He continued to kiss her gently, the two breaking apart for a moment as their eyes met, lazy smiles on both of their faces.
"I missed you, you know?" Fred mumbled quietly, eyes warm.
Madeline rolled her eyes, "I missed you too, you idiot. Now, keep kissing me."
Fred didn't need any more encouragement, diving back in. Madeline's hands snaked back to his face, holding him close as his own hands braced himself above her. Once again, nothing felt rushed or frantic, the two just enjoying the time they had together.
His mouth made it's way to her cheek, leaving small little pecks as he moved downwards to her neck. He continued there, kissing the long expanse of her neck as she laughed into his ear. His tie dangled above her, her hand finding it to pull him down, the two now chest-to-chest.
Fred's eyebrows rose in surprise, his mouth moving back to find Madeline's lips. The kisses only became more heated as Fred's hands moved to Madeline's legs, guiding them up and around his waist.
And, oh. Yep, he was definitely enjoying this-
"Uh, guys?"
The two pulled apart immediately at the sound of Lee's voice, who was stood frozen at the entrance to the common room. Madeline quickly cleared her throat, adjusting her skirt and shirt collar, "Can we help you?"
"No, uh, you're fine," Lee stuttered, eyeing Fred's dishevelled appearance with a grin, "But glad to see Hogwarts' lovebirds are back."
Lee picked up the clipboard George had left on the coffee table, winking at Fred before walking back out of the common room. The couple sat in silence for a few moments, eyes finally meeting. Madeline's lip wobbled for a moment before the two burst into a heap of laughter.
Yep, he was forgiven alright.
Madeline hadn't had the chance to catch Harry after his detention. She'd left the Gryffindor common room ten minutes before her detention, having spent the last hour beating Fred in Wizard Chess over and over. She made her way to the office briskly, a couple of people eyeing her as she walked past. She simply flipped her hair, over her shoulder, much like Daphne often would, striding with her head held high and her nose to the sky.
When she arrived at the door of the office, she knocked for good measure. A sugary 'Come in!' followed. Madeline pushed the door open.
Merlin, she was going to be sick.
She'd been in the office once or twice last year, but this time, it looked completely unrecognisable. The surfaces had all been draped in lacy covers and cloths, giving the room an eerie old-timely look. To add to this, there were several vases full of dried flowers (all pink), each one residing on its own doily (also, all pink), and on one of the walls was a collection of ornamental plates, each decorated with a large technicolour kitten wearing a different (pink) bow around its neck.
Madeline was no interior designer, but she'd seen better decor in the dungeons.
"Good evening, Miss Bisset," Umbridge smiled from her desk. She gestured to a small table draped in lace beside which she had drawn up a straight-backed chair. A piece of blank parchment lay on the table, "Will you take a seat?"
"Evening," Madeline replied stiffly, making her way to the table with her head held high. She took a seat slowly, the straight back of the chair making her sit up stiffly, uncomfortably. She was sure that was the whole point.
One of the ornamental plates on the wall behind her meowed. Literally, meowed at her. She was sure this had to be a nightmare.
Umbridge stood, taking a few brisk steps to stand in front of Madeline, "So Miss Bisset, it seems from your little outburst in my class that you are rather… Perturbed by the evil, nasty, attention-seeking stories Potter has been telling-"
"I don't quite believe they are lies, Professor," Madeline interrupted politely. If her grandmother had taught her anything, it was how to appear diplomatic in the most cunning, venomous way possible.
Umbridge sighed lightly, yet the smile on her face remained the same, "It would be in your best interest to listen to your elders, Miss Bisset. I should be keeping you for the rest of the week as I am with Mister Potter, but I believe you've been lead astray, something we should easily be able to correct in one evening, don't you agree?"
Madeline didn't reply. Umbridge continued, "Now, you are going to be doing some lines for me, Miss Bisset. Using a rather special quill of mine. And no, you won't be needing any ink."
Madeline was halfway bending down to her satchel, but she pulled herself back up straight, watching as Umbridge picked up a long, thin black quill with an unusually sharp point from her desk. The quill was heavy and lined with silver, not much different to the ones her Uncle would use.
Umbridge tapped the parchment in front of her, placing the quill on top of it, "I want you to write, 'I must not believe lies.'"
"How many times?"
"Oh, as long as it takes for the message to sink in, darling," Umbridge smiled sweetly, moving back to her desk, "Off you go."
This didn't seem too bad. Sure, it absolutely disgusted her that the new Professor would even suggest Cedric's fate to be a lie, but a couple of lines of parchment were the least of her worries. If she could stay in Umbridge's favour, she had a feeling this year would be much, much easier. And she'd really like more time to make out with her boyfriend, thank you very much.
Madeline placed the point of the quill on the parchment. Slowly, and with a lot of resentment, she began writing with neat calligraphy, 'I must not believe lies'.
She'd barely finished the line when her hand started to burn.
She let out a gasp of pain. The words had appeared on the parchment in what appeared to be shining red ink. At the same time, the words had appeared on the back of Madeline's left hand, cut into her skin as though traced there by a scalpel.
Her eyes widened, the quill left lying on the page. After a few moments, the skin healed over again, leaving the place where it had been slightly redder than before, but bare from any cut.
"Is there a problem, Miss Bisset?" Umbridge asked sweetly, looking over to the girl.
Madeline swallowed. She needed to be smart; stay in her good books, get out of this room alive, and get the hell to Snape's office as soon as possible.
"Nothing at all," Madeline smiled, taking a deep breath before returning to the parchment.
The same thing happened for the second line, and the third, and the fourth. The 'ink' on the parchment was nothing else but her own blood, she came to realise. Bisset blood, spilt on parchment like it was nothing, writing the death of her friend as a lie, like it was nothing.
A prickling of tears began building behind her eyes at the thought. That Cedric's fate, whatever happened in that maze, would be amounted to nothing but lies and an old man's babble. But she wasn't about to show weakness, nor fear. She swallowed back the tears. She knew Umbridge was watching her, and she wasn't about to give her the satisfaction of seeing her in pain.
She didn't know how long it had been. Minutes, maybe hours. But by the time she'd filled the page, the words were now etched into her hand permanently. The skin didn't heal nor smooth over. Instead, she was left with her own handwriting glistening in blood on her hand.
'I must not believe lies.'
"Come here," Umbridge broke her musing gently, a sickeningly sweet smile on her face.
Madeline stood with her head held high, placing the parchment on Umbridge's desk. The 'ink' was still glistening in the candlelight of her office.
"Hand," Umbridge asked simply.
She extended it. Umbridge took it in her own, examining it. She repressed a shudder as she touched him with her thick, stubby fingers. And god, was that sparkly pink nail polish?
"Looks like it's left quite the impression on you," Umbridge smiled sweetly, letting her hand go, "Wonderful. Seems we won't be needing the extra detentions at all. You may go."
Madeline took a deep breath, calming herself. She needed to be smart.
"I hope we can turn a new leaf, Professor," Madeline smiled almost as sweetly as Umbridge did, making her own stomach churn, "I don't wish for my outburst to give you a bad impression of me."
Umbridge smiled, almost proudly, "Consider it done, Miss Bisset. Now, hurry along. You wouldn't want to get caught past curfew."
Madeline left her office without another word. The school was deserted; it was surely past midnight, if not later. She walked calmly down the third floor corridor, paintings eyeing her warily as her hands began shaking. She made it down to the bottom of the staircases, through the archway leading into the dungeons, before she broke down.
She grabbed at the brick dungeon walls, uncaring of the grime and odd wetness of the stones. She needed an anchor, something to hold onto as the last few hours came crashing onto her. Her necklace held a phantom burn as she clutched it, the metal pendant grounding her.
That woman. That- that witch. She'd tried to make her believe Cedric's death had been an accident, ignoring the clear signs that something was coming. That Harry Potter would have the nerve to lie. That Dumbledore would have the nerve to lie. And more people were going to get hurt if someone didn't do something about it.
She could feel a couple of tears on her face, but it didn't matter. She took a deep breath, composing herself, wiping her wet fingers on her robes, no doubt leaving smears of dirt on them. No, she wasn't going to be afraid, and like hell was she going to let Umbridge ruin Cedric's memory.
She was a Bisset, and Bissets weren't afraid of anything.
"What happened to your hand?" Daphne asked the next morning, the trio sat together for breakfast once more.
Madeline took a large gulp of coffee, her left hand now bandaged tightly, "I slipped in the dungeons and scratched my hand up on my way back from detention last night. I put a tonic on it; it should heal in a day or two."
Daphne nodded in understanding, "I've done that before. Scraped my knee tripping on the step of the common room. It's like a bloody death trap down there."
Madeline felt sick to her stomach lying to her friends, but it had to be done. At least, until she could tell Dumbledore about it. She was not going to give Umbridge the satisfaction of hearing that she had complained what she'd done.
Her eyes wandered over to the Gryffindor table. Her boyfriend was huddled up with George and Lee, no doubt talking about whatever new product they'd thought of. Who she was looking for, however, was Harry Potter.
Who was nowhere to be seen.
She had to wonder; did Umbridge do the same to him?
"What did you do with Umbridge anyway?" Theo asked, stirring his porridge lazily.
Madeline shrugged nonchalantly, although she was sure Theo had picked up on her sudden tenseness, "Just made me do lines."
Theo didn't seem convinced, but he didn't press the matter. Instead, the three friends enjoyed their breakfast as they would every morning, Daphne chatting animatedly about anything and everything.
Madeline warily watched Umbridge sitting at the Professors table, spooning in heaps of sugar with her tea. The serene, happy smile on her face made Madeline sick.
She was going to wipe that smile of the old lady's face, no matter what.