Chapter 49: Slughorns Party

There was a tension in the air that Madeline couldn't quite place. That, or Fred had truly gotten to her.

Her dreams were plagued with doubt, whispers of her own insecurities. Was Draco truly using her? Did people know about the curse, and were they just waiting for the day she'd kick the bucket?

Life had been unfair in a number of ways for her. She had been born into wealth and beauty, into a comfortable life, but the longer she lived it, the more she resented it. She couldn't lie; she'd always loved the money, but there were things that were making it complicated. The most important one; the looming Head of The Family title that was mocking her every thought.

Her family wanted her to be one thing, but the world was telling her a hundred different reasons not to. Fred's eyes bore holes into her soul, leeching out every doubt and thought she'd had to leave this life behind. To hide away, and never be found. Never fulfil the prophecy, never discover the curse. To just hide away in the alps, maybe a deserted island. Anything to get away from her fate.

But instead, Madeline smoothed her gown down, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was smooth and softly curled, her lipstick a pretty red. Her dress was long and silky, with thin straps to show off her collarbones. It was a deep green, of course, with barely any embroidery. It was nothing special, because it was designed to make her look special. And of course, the Bisset crest on her dreaded necklace, a simple incomplete teardrop shape.

She was the picture perfect Bisset. And yet, for the first time, she looked into the mirror and didn't like what looked back at her.

Slughorn's party was tonight. Blaise was in the common room, waiting for her. She hadn't seen Draco properly in days, just flashes of him ducking through corridors. She missed him, of course. But she also felt like she was missing something, like there was a piece of a puzzle she didn't know she was attempting to complete.

And strangely, Theo had also been missing from many evenings in the Slytherin common room. Instead of chatting and playing chess with her friends and boyfriend, Madeline had found herself talking to Evie Sterling more than any of her close friends. Evie, who was growing up faster than Madeline cared to admit. Evie who had beaten her at wizard chess four times in a row this week, and who seemed to understand the world better than anyone else her age.

Madeline took a fortified breath, smoothing down any wrinkles in the silk. Blaise had asked her to attend this party with him, for whatever reason, and she was going to stick to her promise, no matter how much she wanted to sod the whole thing off and look for Draco - and hopefully, shake some sense into him.

She slipped on her heels, and opened the door.

"This is mean."

Draco rolled his eyes, pulling at the rope around the cabinet, "You should've made that decision before you started helping me."

"Not that," Theo corrected, "I was referring to the fact that you've gotten your best friend to ask your girlfriend to attend a party with him so she can stay distracted from that."

Draco stared at the cabinet, huffing, "Trust me, I'd rather be in Madeline's company right now."

"Charming."

That's how Dracos evenings had been; throwing snide remarks back and forth with Theodore Nott as they aimlessly tried to get this forsaken cabinet working. It was near impossible, but Draco would rather those odds.

Him and Theo never talked about the why. Why were they doing this? It was an unspoken agreement; words that should never be uttered out loud. The truth was that they were in the same boat; they didn't have a choice.

He just really didn't want to get Madeline involved in any of it. Ever.

"Well," Madeline began, nursing a glass of deflated butter beer, "This is just riveting, isn't it?"

"Shut up Bisset."

Blaise and Madeline were not having a particularly pleasant evening.

There were merely days until Christmas Day, and yet Madeline felt anything but festive. Surrounded by people she barely knew, she was a stranger amongst those who Slughorn had taken under his good graces.

Of course, Harry was there, with none other than Luna Lovegood. Luna seemed to be perfectly at ease under the canopy of green and red banners draping above them, the office cleverly decorated to seem like a tent. Blaise and Madeline had secluded themselves to an empty wall, sipping their drinks as they surveyed the room. She knew they were exuding an air of privilege, and she didn't care. Last year, she'd perhaps find glee in this, but now, she had learnt that her position in the world would never change in the eyes of others for as long as she dated Draco Malfoy.

Everyone was dressed to the nines, including the adults Madeline had never met. She recognised faces from the back of some books Draco had been reading around her, but none enough to make her want to strike a conversation. Blaise fit in with the convey of men dressed in smart tuxes, but his smirk held a mischief long forgotten to anyone over thirty.

"I'm going to switch this to Mead," Blaise announced, pushing himself off the wall, "Want a glass?"

"Please."

Madeline was left alone, watching the room with little interest. She'd seen Hermione and Harry speaking to each other in a distant corner, eyes gazing back to her every few minutes. They'd been wary of her since the news of her and Draco had spread. Slughorn himself had offered her a polite greeting, but was quickly and promptly whisked away from a Gryffindor who gave Madeline a rather stern look. Overall, she was having a fantastic evening, thank you very much.

"Try to look happy to be here," Blaise teased as he handed her a glass filled with Mead.

"There were day I would've found this type of thing entertaining," Madeline admitted, "But alas, we all grow up, don't we?"

She took a long sip at his silence.

"Surprised your Weasley isn't here."

"He's not my Weasley," Madeline countered, "I'm literally dating your best friend."

"How could I forget," Blaise snorted, taking a drink of his Mead, "You're all he talks about."

Madeline raised her eyebrow, "Really?"

"Why are you acting surprised?" Blaise smirked, "You've seen the way he looks at you."

"I've also seen the way you look at crumpets, Blaise."

"If you are insinuating that you're Draco's version of a crumpet, I will be promptly leaving you."

Madeline took a sip of her Mead, studying the room once more, "Do you ever wonder what you would've been like in another house?"

"I would've left Hogwarts if I was sorted into Hufflepuff."

"You'd do well in Ravenclaw," Madeline continued, "They love the brooding moody type in there. Hell, maybe you would've had a chance against my grades then."

"We all thought you were going to be in Gryffindor."

Madeline raised her eyebrows, "What?"

"At your sorting ceremony," Blaise continued, "You walked in with all those first years, and we all thought you were going to be a Gryffindor for sure. Draco said it himself, said you'd be another addition to Harry's perfect little group."

Madeline cast her mind back to that day, and what the Sorting Hat had asked her.

"But tell me, would you rather be safe, or be great?"

She hadn't thought about those words often, but now she knew what the Sorting Hat meant. If she'd chosen Gryffindor, she would've been friends with The Boy Who Lived. He had a knack for keeping people around him alive, and she probably wouldn't know what she knows now. She'd probably be a better person, but would she ever have been great?

Finally, Madeline recognised an unfamiliar face.

His name was Sanguini. Just Sanguini, because he'd shed his family name decades before. He'd written a paper Madeline had once read for her homeschooling, his face plastered on the cover. Only now, he looked duller, with dark circles under his eyes. He was a vampire with a flare for the dramatic, and had written many papers on the geology of the Wizarding World, including a detailed research into herbs and medicine from Wales.

Which meant he'd travelled around Wales for a few years, and would probably know hell of a lot more about the relevance of Beddgelert when it came to, say, a wizards wand.

"Hold this," Madeline passed her glass of Mead back to Blaise, "I have a vampire to charm."

"Should I send for Malfoy?"

"Not like that, Blaise."

And she set off.

Vampires were incredibly boring.

All it had taken was for Madeline to push her hair off her shoulder and a tender caress of her neck for Sanguini to open up. She had asked about his time in Wales, pushing for him to share any exciting discoveries. Unfortunately, she hadn't expected this particular vampire to drawl on about the importance of Welsh fly orchids for ten minutes.

"I recently discovered that the wood my wand is made from originated in Beddgelert," Madeline cut in, "Did you visit there?"

"Oh, yes," Sanguini began, "Lovely place, quite small. Plenty of untouched land to excavate. The stream is quite underwhelming."

"Sounds delightful," Madeline pressed, "Any exciting discoveries there?"

"Surprisingly, yes," Sanguini admitted, peaking her interest, "There weren't many magic folk around, but the one person I spoke to happened to have quite a lot of information. Really showed me the lay of the land. She was quite charming, actually."

Madeline's eyebrows raised, lying smoothly, "Oh, I think I read something she wrote, actually."

"Really? I wasn't sure if she wrote or not, but she definitely seemed like the type," Sanguini mused.

"What's her name?" Madeline pressed, "I don't quite remember the authors name."

"Oh of course, her name was M-"

There was a crash and a clatter, as if someone had thrown a plate. The room fell to silence, all eyes turning to the side of the room.

…Where Madeline's eyes fell onto Draco, who's arm was being held firmly by Filch.

What?

"Get your hands off me you filthy Squid-"

"Professor Slughorn," Filch cut off, "I just discovered this boy lurking in an upstairs corridor. He claims to have been invited to your party."

"Okay, okay, I was gatecrashing," Draco huffed, but Madeline wasn't convinced, "Happy."

By now, everyones eyes were on Draco and Filch, the room in a tense silence as Snape approached Draco, "I'll escort him out."

Draco yanked his arm out of Filches hand, eyes never leaving Snape as he replied, "Certainly, Professor."

Madeline felt something odd settle in her gut, and it was then she knew that something was deeply, deeply wrong.

She immediately went to follow Draco out of the room, but a hand quickly shot out from behind Sanguini, grabbing her.

"Where are you going?" Blaise demanded as the room returned to its original hustle and bustle.

Madeline yanked her arm free from his grip, "To see if my boyfriend is okay, and more importantly, what the hell has gotten into him."

"He's just-"

"How would you know what's going on?" Madeline demanded. When Blaise had no response, she left the party with a final glare in his direction.

Something was horribly wrong.

In some sick turn of fate, Madeline and Harry had the same idea.

"What are you doing leaving the party so early?" Madeline asked Harry as they rounded a corner, briskly walking away from the party and towards the dungeons.

"I could ask you the same question."

"Then how about we don't ask each other questions?" Madeline proposed, Harry nodding in agreement.

Sometimes, things were better left unspoken. Especially when you were running after your boyfriend with his mortal enemy.

They walked to the same beat in the dark corridors, no words shared. Madelines heart was pounding; she knew she should've trusted her instincts. It was a few minutes before they heard a voice coming from a nearby corridor.

"Maybe I did hex that Bell girl, maybe I didn't," Draco's unmistakable drawl began. Madeline's words caught in her throat, "What's it to you?"

Madeline didn't have time to register his words before she heard someone being shoved, most likely against a wall. She pressed herself against the perpendicular wall next to the arch leading into the corridor, Harry doing the same, listening in.

"I swore to protect you," Snape hissed, "I made the unbreakable vow."

"I don't need protection," Draco snapped back, "I was chosen for this. Out of all others, me. I won't fail him."

"You're afraid Draco," a beat, "You attempt to conceal it, but it's obvious. Let me assist you-"

"No," Draco exclaimed, "I was chosen. This is my moment."

Their footsteps echoed around the corridor as they walked away, but Madeline couldn't move. She was frozen; her heart had jumped out of her chest and latched onto the wall, keeping her rooted in her spot.

Because deep down, she knew what he was talking about. She knew who he was chosen by, and it was no secret that he was proud of it. The way he spoke to Snape confirmed it. And now she knew too, and so did Harry.

"It might not mean anything," Harry tried after a few minutes in silence, "He could be talking about-"

"Cut the crap Harry," Madeline huffed, closing her eyes and letting her head lean back against the wall, "We both know what this means."

Madeline took a steadying breath, opening her eyes, "He's becoming exactly what everyone has seen him as all these years, isn't he?"

Harry didn't respond, but he stayed right next to her.

An unbreakable vow will kill you if you break it. Snape made an unbreakable vow to help Draco in whatever he's doing, most definitely for Voldemort. The same Snape who has been spending his evenings helping Madeline battle the Imperio curse. And the same Draco who had shared a little part of his soul with her, letting her in through warm smiles and gentle kisses.

The same Draco who was now following in his fathers footsteps.

"Let me talk to him," Madeline finally spoke into the dark corridor, "I need to figure out what's going on. I promise you Harry, he does not want to follow in his fathers footsteps."

Harry hesitated, but eventually nodded, "If Snape is helping him, there's not much I can do."

"I'm asking you to not to anything," Madeline corrected, "Think you can handle that?"

"No promises."

"I thought as much," Madeline nodded. She took a moment for herself, straightening her spine and brushing her hair off her shoulders. She was Madeline Bisset. She was powerful. If anyone could shake some sense into Draco, it would be her.

She just hoped she wasn't too late.

It took her just under an hour to find him.

Snape had marched him straight back to the Slytherin dorms. Madeline had gone there first, but she was smart. She didn't bother changing, and instead had donned her invisibility cloak, waiting for him to move. Because Draco was nothing if not stubborn, and if Filch caught him in the corridors, he was going somewhere.

She waited in the common room until he reappeared, unruly blonde hair framed by a dark shirt and trousers. He marched straight past her under her invisibility cloak, and Madeline began following him.

She followed him up to the seventh floor, where he searched for the Room of Requirements. Madeline did her best to stay quiet, but she feared that her heart beating as fast as it was might give her away. Finally, when the door opened, she was quick to slide through right next to him.

And then, she was in the room.

An endless room filled with what seemed to be junk, but was most likely cleverly disguised magical objects. Madeline clutched her wand in her hand, following behind him carefully. She hid behind a well-worn bookshelf as she watched him. He looked around, as if paranoid, and she watched as he uncovered what could only be described as the most evil-looking cabinet she'd ever seen in her life.

Before he could do anything else, Madeline removed the cloak, stepping into view behind him.

"Didn't know you liked toys, Malfoy."

Dracos spun around to stare at her, a mixture of shock and fear on his face. When he met her eyes, it quickly morphed to guilt.

"You shouldn't be here-"

"Let's not go through all that, shall we?" Madeline interrupted, taking a step forward, her wand clutched tightly in her right hand, "You've been lying to me for Merlin knows how long and turns out you're just the Dark Lords lackey."

"Madeline-"

"Was this real?" Madeline pressed, lips pursed, "Was anything between us real? Or were you just trying to appease him-"

"Of course it's real!"

Madeline was taken aback, but Draco wasn't about to stop.

"All of this is what I have to do, what I've been chosen for," Draco continued, stepping towards her. Up this close, Madeline could see the dark circles tattooed under his eyes, probably never fully going away, "But you are the single real thing in my life right now Bisset."

"You're trading your life into a prison-"

"What else am I meant to do?!" Draco asked in exasperation, "He chose me for a reason. My dad, h-he…"

Madeline had never seen Draco so lost for words. He clutched at his arm, and Madeline realised that this ran much, much deeper than she'd anticipated.

"You're in too deep," Madeline realised, "But Draco, I can help-"

"No," Draco shook his head, "This has nothing to do with you. I can't have you mixed up in this."

"Yes, you can," Madeline pressed, stepping forwards, "And I don't mean getting you out of this. Draco, I'll help you."

"You don't know what you're saying."

Madeline took Dracos hands in hers, "We're in this together. We're getting out of the war together. Because there is going to be a war, and we're going to be in it. And I didn't decide to be with you not knowing that, Draco."

Draco met her eyes then, and Madeline could've sworn he was about to cry. She'd never seen him so fragile, so young. She didn't dare think what would've happened had she not discovered this when she did.

"This isn't just some pet project, Bisset," Draco continued, "This is our lives."

"And I'm still here, aren't I?" Madeline pushed.

"You don't understand-"

"I'm about to become Head of the Bisset Family," Madeline interrupted, "And I'm pretty sure that means that Voldemort is about to become my boss. So, let me help you."

Draco pressed his forehead to hers, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. The next time he spoke, it was in a whisper, "You know, I never wanted this for us. But then again, I didn't think I'd ever have anything like this with anyone."

Madeline felt her heart break just a little bit for the boy. This world had rendered him to this; thinking he is unworthy to be cared and loved for.

"No one is taking this away from us," Madeline clarified, squeezing his hands in hers, "We're getting through this alive, no matter what."

She was never a hero. She was a weapon, something Voldemort wanted to keep for himself.

And she was pretty sure she'd just handed herself over on a golden platter.