Chapter 28: A Seat At The Table

A/N: Reminder that Madeline is very much a flawed character, and like every other author's OC, she does not represent my own views and opinions.

September, Sixth Year.

Daphne Greengrass looked at herself in the mirror.

There was nothing different. Her hair was the same, her eyes were the same… She was still the picture-perfect Slytherin the girl other girls wished they were. But, something felt different.

No one else was in the dorm room. It was far too early in the year, and perhaps her solitude was something she'd designed herself, but she wasn't ready to unbox that quite yet. No, not yet.

She could hear the words echoing through her head. The words she didn't quite know if she regretted yet.

"I'm not this person."

"You make me reckless."

"I'm sorry."

She didn't know if she had made a mistake. She didn't know, and she wouldn't know for a long time. But she did know one thing;

To survive, sometimes you'd have to break your own heart.

The Present

Two weeks passed with surprisingly no incident.

Umbridge was, of course, as insidious as ever. She continued her evaluation of every class whilst still somehow running the most useless one of all. Even History of Magic was more interesting than her drab lectures. The Slytherin Trio often found themselves in the library or their common room, finishing off essays with easy banter and laughter.

Everything felt normal. Even Fred and Madeline were going strong, the two often seen together at breakfast or lunch. Truthfully, Madeline didn't know how to be in a relationship, but Fred made things easy. He was kind and compassionate, and just so charming. He was intoxicating to be around.

They'd made plans for the Hogsmeade trip coming up. 'A proper date', according to Fred. One that didn't consist of sharing a bucket of strawberries in the astronomy tower, or him trying to teach her Quidditch. And of course, Madeline was more than excited.

Until Fred cancelled.

"I'm sure he has his reasons," Daphne tried to reason with her as the Slytherin Trio walked through Hogsmeade, ironically passing Zonko's Wizarding Joke Shop, "But if he doesn't grovel, I'll kill him."

"He said there was some sort of emergency with an order he'd placed with George, said he'll try and meet me later on," Madeline explained, pulling her scarf around her neck tightly. And despite it being a perfectly reasonable excuse, the sting of being ignored all summer still lingered in the air, a bitter taste in her mouth.

The trio watched as their classmates dashed around Hogsmeade. Madeline could see Neville and Ginny a few feet in front of them, looking rather engrossed in a hushed conversation with a Hufflepuff boy Madeline didn't recognise. Even further down the path, Luna Lovegood seemed rather dazed as her eyes danced around the road, taking everything in.

"So, The Three Broomsticks?" Theo asked, the two girls nodding along.

The Three Broomsticks was filled with Hogwarts students, of course. Everyone was trying to hide from the cold weather with warm Butterbeers and hot chocolates, joyful laughing between the houses as scarves and hats were shed.

Thankfully, despite the crowds, a group of Slytherin fifth-years had ample room at their booth (because of course, no one wanted to sit with Slytherin). Unfortunately, however, it just so happened to be Draco Malfoy's gang that had extended the ever-so-kind invitation.

"This is awkward," Theo whispered to Madeline.

It seemed that the Divination lesson Daphne had spent paired with Pansy had worked wonders on Pansy Parkinsons ability to be a nice person. The Slytherin trio slid into the booth after a wave from Pansy, warm mugs in their hands as Madeline found herself pressed between Theo and, of course, Malfoy.

The booth consisted of Draco, Pansy, and Blaise, all of which nursed their own warm mugs. Madeline found herself pressed against Malfoy's side, his cologne annoyingly strong and the smell of peppermint on his breath distracting her from Daphne and Pansy's overly friendly greeting.

"Lovely of you to join us," Blaise commented sarcastically from his seat next to Pansy, arm draped over the back of the booth casually.

"A seat at a table is still a seat," Theo retorted, sipping his butterbeer.

Madeline eyes the small pile of bags the group had already amassed. Her own trio had barely stepped foot into a single shop, nothing peaking their interest. But it seemed that Malfoy had enjoyed quite a shop, a stack of brand-new books lined up neatly next to him. Including-

"You read muggle fiction?" Madeline asked incredulously, a smirk on her face as her eyes ran over the shiny golden title 'Hamlet' embedded on the spine of one of the books.

Draco rolled his eyes, "It's Shakespeare; a lot of his language is used in Wizarding fiction, thank you very much."

"I never struck you as a Shakespeare type."

"I never struck you as someone that could read, Bisset."

"Shakespeare is actually rather popular," Pansy hastily interrupting, eyes flickering between the two of them, "My parents took me to see one of his plays once when we visited Muggle London. It was… Quaint."

"Shakespeare redefined theatre and writing," Madeline corrected her, "The way he wrote is genius. Sure, maybe not the best guy, and his sonnets feel a bit repetitive, but he's still a pioneer of literature."

"Nerd," Blaise coughed behind a grin."

"Looks like someone did their homework," Draco commented, eyebrow raised as he scanned over Madeline's face with something akin to interest, "Favourite work?"

"Macbeth," Madeline replied simply, "I read it when I was a kid-"

"Bleak."

"-And I think it's probably one of the best commentaries on the muggle royals I have ever seen," Madeline finished.

"Never," Daphne interrupted, "In the history of time, have I been so bored," she turned to Pansy, taking a swig of her butterbeer, "Parkinson, entertain me."

"Piss off."

"That's no way to treat a friend," Daphne scolded, whipping her blonde hair over her shoulder and leaning her head on her palm, turning inwards to face Pansy.

"Thats because we're not friends, Greengrass," Pansy rolled her eyes, "God, you are so irritating."

"But you love it."

"You're almost as bad as Harry and that lot," Pansy huffed, arms crossed across her chest, "But at least you're not a blood traitor, or a snooty little Gryff-"

"If I hear one more word about house rivalries I might just pack up and go back to France," Madeline groaned, "We're not even in Hogwarts right now."

"Oh Bisset, let me explain things clearly," Pansy's thin lips curled into a devilish smirk, "Us? Not the villains. You see, Slytherin house is a victim of circumstance. They see the green and silver ties and immediately think of dungeons and darkness and generally just bad things. So, they avoid us. They make us out to be villains."

"And where does blood purity come into play in all of this?" Madeline pressed, "Do I have a bias with blood purity because of my family history? Sure, yeah; I'd be a hypocrite not to recognise that. But that doesn't mean I'm about to estrange someone purely based on something they can't control."

"So you get it," Pansy pressed, "My mother would kick me out of the house if I showed up with a muggleborn boyfriend. Do I think that's fair? No. But do I do what I have to do to survive based on what situation I'm in? Absolutely."

Madeline blinked. Okay. She kind of got it. Sure, it didn't excuse for racism, but when you've been in a certain environment for so long, it's hard to break a habit. Even if you don't necessarily believe in it, like Pansy had hinted. Maybe Pansy Parkinson could be a good person underneath all the layers of prejudice.

"Controversially," Blaise joined in, "I'd say Gryffindor and Slytherins are two sides of the same coin."

"You take that back!" Daphne gaped sarcastically, hand flying to her forehead like a damsel in distress.

"I mean, based on house definitions both Gryffindor and Slytherin are brave, and are willing to do what needs to be done. But the difference is how we approach stuff," Blaise explained, leaning forwards, "Like, both houses are extremely competitive in Quidditch, but while Angelia works her team to the bone with laps and drills, we use strategy in our practices."

"Makes sense," Theo agreed, rubbing his chin, "But I do wonder how many Slytherins may have been close to being a Gryffindor, or vice versa."

"The hat gives you a choice sometimes," Madeline supplied, biting her tongue, "Or at least that's what I've heard."

"Imagine choosing to be a Gryffindor," Pansy snorted, "Or worse yet; a Hufflepuff!"

"I'd rather be a Hufflepuff than wake up and see your ugly mug first thing in the morning, Pansy dear," Daphne replied sweetly, ignoring Pansy's offended expression.

Laughter echoed through the table, despite Pansy's protests. And so, the day continued like this; the Slytherin Trios uniting for just a few hours, ignoring the concerned glances from the other patrons of the Three Broomsticks when Pansy cackled slightly too loud, or when Daphne and Blaise were trading embarrassing stories.

Madeline's arm remained pressed against Draco's side the entire time, and although she didn't exactly like the guy, it wasn't all that bad.

Not bad at all.

Madeline knew something was off.

It had barely been three days since the Hogsmeade trip, but something was in the air. Whenever she passed the Gryffindor table, it seemed that the flurry of ever-present chatter quietened down, as if they were weary of even having her around. It felt like suddenly, everyone had remembered the small detail that Madeline had all but collapsed minutes before Cedric's dead body had been discovered. She suddenly didn't feel like sitting with her usual breakfast Gryffindors, instead opting to join her house for all her meals. It wasn't like she wouldn't see Fred in the evenings anyway, she just needed some time apart from the lion house.

She slid into her rightful seat, Theo and Daphne opposite her, Evie Sterling just a few seats away. No one spared her a second glance, as if she'd always belonged there; which she did.

"Trouble in paradise?" Daphne asked immediately as Madeline took her seat, biting into a piece of toast.

Madeline shook her head, "No, not with Fred. Just… I've got a weird feeling about the Gryffindors today. Everyone seems a little… Tense? It feels like everyone is talking about me, but they don't want me to hear."

"That's a little presumptuous even for you, Bisset," Draco's voice suddenly answered as Blaise, Pansy and himself sat on with the Trio, with Blaise and Draco on either side of Madeline. Annoyingly, Draco smelt like peppermint a little too strongly for Madeline's liking.

"It might be because of Umbridge's new rule," Blaise observed, "About no organised activities without her explicit permission?"

"Hold on, rewind," Daphne interrupted, holding her hand up to Blaise, "She's making rules now?! Does she have the power to do that?"

"No Quidditch," Malfoy nodded, waving his orange juice around as if it were a sceptre, "Although it wasn't a problem for us Slytherins. I asked her to reinstate the team as soon as the announcement got posted. My father is a good friend of the Ministry, see-"

"Yeah, whatever," Madeline waved him off, barely sparing him a glance before turning to Blaise, "Apart from gatekeeping Quidditch; any other brilliant new initiatives we should know about?"

"Nothing," Blaise shrugged, stirring himself a sugar into his coffee before adding, "Yet. You're not wrong about the Gryffindors, by the way. Somethings up."

"She'll probably get rid of Dumbledore at this rate," Pansy shrugged, spooning a heap of scrambled eggs onto her plate, "And rightly so."

"He's not that bad," Theo retorted.

"Yeah, careful what you say around this one, Parkinson," Draco smirked, gesturing to Madeline, "She might run and tell her little boyfriend."

"Excuse you?" Madeline turned in her seat to fully face Draco, "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means that you might just have a little too much house loyalty with the Gryffindors, in my opinion," Draco continued, "Sleeping with the enemy doesn't bode well, Bisset."

Madeline blinked. Hadn't they gotten past this literally three days ago?!

"What I do and who I do it with is none of your business, Ferret," Madeline spat, "You have no right to question me, my loyalties or my relationships because, quite frankly, you don't mean anything of importance to me, Malfoy."

"Saucy," Blaise whispered to Theo.

"Whether you like it or not, I'm as much of a Slytherin as you are, and I'm sorry that you don't get to have control over every single person around you, because that's just not how people work," Madeline finished, turning back around and sipping her coffee as if she hadn't just unleashed onto Malfoy, "You don't get to be a little control freak over every single Slytherin. You don't run the house; never have and never will. People have free will, Malfoy."

The small group was quiet for a few moments, until none other than Blaise started chuckling quietly. They all turned to him, even Draco who'd been too busy staring angrily at his plate to acknowledge anyone else.

"Well then," Blaise smirked, "Looks like Maddy earnt a place at the table after all."

Maddy.

Madeline liked that nickname. Sure, it was lovely when Fred said it, but it was something completely different when her housemates used it. It was like the ultimate acceptance; because you don't just use a nickname with anyone. It was a play on words, with how easily she got mad when it came to Malfoy, but with her housemates using it… She felt, weirdly, accepted. Or maybe she was reading far too into it all.

"Are you friends with Malfoy now?"

The question had surprised Madeline, breaking her out of her thoughts. Her and Fred were in the Gryffindor common room, her head on his lap as the Golden Trio surrounded them, finishing off their homework. She looked up at Ron, who'd asked the question.

"Pardon?"

"You seemed awfully chum at breakfast," Ron continued, "Friends?"

"Acquaintances," Madeline responded, narrowing her eyes as she sat up, "Is there a problem with me being in the same house as him? Because I thought we dealt with all this last year."

"Just an observation," Ron replied grimly.

"None of your business, Weasley," Madeline replied, closing her eyes and letting Fred's fingers play with her hair, "But for the record; not friends."

"Leave her alone, Ron," Hermione scolded, "She doesn't have to prove herself to you every waking moment of every day."

"Cheers Granger," Madeline nodded, "My life, unlike yours, doesn't revolve around house rivalries."

"Ignore him, he's being a git," Fred whispered to Madeline, thumb rubbing circles atop her hand.

"I heard that."

"And I've heard enough," Madeline sighed, standing up and brushing herself down, "It's getting late; I'm going back to the dungeons."

She ignored Ron's guilty expression, leaning down and kissing the side of Fred's temple, "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"Absolutely," Fred nodded, hands ghosting over her side. Madeline smiled, waving at Hermione before leaving the Gryffindor common room, with only minutes to get back to the dungeons.

As soon as the door behind her closed, the Golden Trio and their friends turned to Fred and Harry. Hermione bit her lip as Ron spoke;

"You haven't told her, have you?"

"Absolutely not," Fred shook his head, crossing his arms, "Right, George?"

"She has no idea."

"We should keep it that way," Hermione nodded, "I mean, don't get me wrong! I like Madeline, but we can't risk this getting to Umbridge at all."

"I agree," Ron nodded soundly.

"But isn't it a little unfair?" Harry asked, turning to Fred, "She might be a Slytherin, but she's still your girlfriend and my friend. I don't think she'd tell anyone."

Fred stayed silent as Ron perked up again, "But I don't think we should take the risk."

"We won't tell her," Fred shook his head, "It's fine. Harry, when are we meeting next?"

Daphne was muddled.

She sat alone in the Slytherin common room. Madeline must've been on her way back from the Gryffindor Common Room by now, and Theo had decided to call it an early night about an hour ago. And so it left Daphne, alone and confused, staring into the flames of the Slytherin fireplace.

She was a logical person. She didn't let emotions cloud her judgement (often). She could differentiate between good and bad, and knew when certain lines had to be crossed. Overall, her emotions and feeling weren't necessarily a governing force in her life.

But now, she felt something.

It was like a door in the corner of her heart had been opened. Imperceptible, but something had changed. Or maybe she'd just grown aware of it suddenly. And she didn't know if she liked it.

Her dreams were plagued with plants and blonde hair, but not like her own. No; white-blonde hair that curled and frizzed wildly, and eyes that told more about life than her own memories. And she didn't understand. She was confused, but at the same time, the answer was right in front of her.

She was just too scared to grab it.