CHAPTER 17: Witch Weekly
'Harry Potter's Secret Heartache'
A boy like no other, perhaps - yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss.
Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has "never felt this way about any other girl."
However, it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate boys' interest.
"She's really ugly," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it."
Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potters well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart on a worthier candidate.
Madeline scoffed at the ridiculous article, throwing the Witch Weekly magazine across the coffee table and back to Pansy, "This is ridiculous."
"Jealous you didn't get interviewed?" Pansy remarked arrogantly, holding the magazine proudly.
"I'd rather not have my name all over a gossip column. Unlike some of us, I'm not that trashy, thank you very much," Madeline snapped back.
Pansy's face became red, her lips pursed in anger as she stood up and stormed out of the common room and to the dormitories, the magazine still clutched between her hands. Madeline simply rolled her eyes, leaning back into the sofa.
"That Rita Skeeter is really going in on the champions," Daphne sighed, seating herself where Pansy had been moments before.
"It's ridiculous," Madeline huffed, "She's horrid. Fred and I saw her in Hogsmeade."
"I'm surprised you're not the one in Witch Weekly for snogging a Weasley," Daphne joked.
Madeline rolled her eyes, "I'm not exactly into PDA, unlike someone I know…"
"It's hot," Daphne shrugged defensively, smugness in her voice, "No one's complaining-"
"Oh believe me Greengrass, we all are," Blaise promised as he sat himself down with the two girls, "But you're too involved with whatever is in Higgs mouth to notice."
"Gross," Madeline agreed.
Daphne shrugged, smirking once more, "Enjoy the show you bores, it's free."
Madeline groaned in disgust, Blaise contorting his face to match. Madeline stood up and dusted herself off pointedly, grabbing the green jumper she'd left draped on the arm of the sofa.
"I'm leaving," Madeline announced, wrapping her arms around the jumper, "See you at dinner, yeah?"
"Why would you leave me with this?" Blaise groaned, going ignored by both girls.
"She's off to find her own loverboy," Daphne laughed, leaning back and crossing her legs sassily, "She's in lo-ovee," she teased.
"Shove off," Madeline rolled her eyes, "We're just playing chess."
"Is that what they've been calling it these days?" Daphne wiggled her eyebrows.
"Stop. The both of you," Blaise groaned, "Bisset, just go will you?"
"Geez. Don't miss me too much Zabini," Madeline grinned, walking out of the common room with a spring in her step.
Madeline had landed herself a nasty cold after the second task, meaning it had been well over a week since her and Fred had managed to spend some time alone together. They'd occasionally sat together for meals, but that had been with Madeline's sniffling nose and the prying eyes and ears of the entire Gryffindor table. Now, Madeline was finally living up to her promise of teaching Fred how to beat anyone at chess.
She had just made it onto the Great Staircase when she found herself bumping into something, or well, someone.
"Are you okay?" Madeline asked as the girl tumbled back a few steps.
The blonde-haired girl pushed a couple of straggly stray strands off her face as she nodded, the hair falling right back in its original place over her face. She was rather odd, adorned little pieces of jewellery Madeline had never seen the likes of.
"I wasn't looking where I was going," the girl replied softly, almost dreamily, "Must've been a Wrackspurt, but I think it's gone now."
"A… A what?" Madeline asked in confusion.
The girl didn't reply. Instead, her eyes fell onto Madeline's necklace; the Bisset Crest. Madeline had recently taken to wearing it over her clothing when possible. The girls' expression didn't change.
"You have one too," she stated simply. Her eyes were fixated on the necklace, although it didn't feel like she was staring. In fact, her gaze was almost dreamy, as if looking into a memory.
"I have a Wrackspurt?" Madeline asked in confusion.
"No. Well, maybe," the girl replied, staring off over Madeline's shoulder, "Have you seen a pair of shoes or two anywhere? I seem to have misplaced mine."
Madeline looked down at the girl, spotting her pair of odd socks; one light green and the other a deep plum. And of course, no shoes. She slowly shook her head, "Uh, no I haven't. But I'll keep an eye out for you?"
"Sure, but we should both go now," the girl smiled dreamily, passing Madeline. Her soft bouncy footsteps almost made her seem like she was floating down the staircase., "I won't keep you any longer."
Madeline watched the odd girl walk away, unsure if she was even real. Even just a few moments later, the interaction seemed almost like a dream. She shrugged the encounter away; the girl didn't seem particularly odd at first glance (if you looked past the odd socks and bizarre jewellery), but she sure acted like it.
She continued her climb up the stairs and to the Gryffindor Common Room, where the Fat Lady greeted her warmly, for a change.
"See, you've left your King exposed here," Madeline instructed as she sat across from Fred in the common room, a chess set between them on the small wooden table, "I could take you out in four moves, easy."
"This is so confusing," Fred groaned, rubbing his face. He pushed his fingers into his cheeks, perching his elbows onto the table, "How do you remember all of this?"
Madeline shrugged smugly, "The same way you remember plays in Quidditch."
Fred scoffed, "Quidditch is much easier than this rubbish."
"So, another game?"
"Definitely."
Madeline began resetting the board just as Harry, Ron and Hermione walked into the Common Room, perching themselves on the sofas around the fireplace. At first, Madeline thought nothing of it. In fact, she had barely noticed their presence until Hermione began raising her voice, rather loudly in Madeline's opinion.
"I hate that Skeeter woman!" Hermione burst out savagely, which shocked Madeline. Of course, she knew Hermione wouldn't be happy about the article, but hearing her anger first-hand was different, "I'll get her back for this if it's the last thing I do!"
"It'll die down, though," Harry told Hermione, "You know, If we just ignore it… People got bored with that stuff she wrote about me last time."
"Yes, after you won everyones hearts back from the first task," Hermione pointed out.
Madeline didn't mean to eavesdrop; she really didn't. However, it was evident by Fred's own expression that neither of them were going to be returning to the chess game soon. Both stayed silent, listening to the Golden Trio.
"I want to know how she's listening into private conversations when she's supposed to be banned from the grounds!" Hermione huffed, "I asked Moody; he said he didn't see her anywhere near the judges' table at the second task, or anywhere near the lake!"
"So?" Ron asked
"So, if she was using an Invisibility Cloak, his magic eye would've seen her like he saw Harry the other night," Hermione explained in exasperation.
Ron groaned, "Is there any point in telling you to drop this?"
"No. We need to know how she heard me talking to Viktor! And how she found out about Hagrid's mum," Hermione persisted.
"Maybe she had you bugged," Harry suggested.
Madeline furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. Bugged?
"Bugged?" Ron asked blankly. "What… Put fleas on her or something?"
Harry began explaining about hidden microphones and recording equipment. Both Ron and Madeline were fascinated, but Hermione interrupted them.
"Aren't you two ever going to read Hogwarts, A History?"
"What's the point?" Ron scoffed, "You know it by heart, we can just ask you. "
"All those substitutes for magic Muggles use - electricity, computers, and radar, and all those things - they all go haywire around Hogwarts, there's too much magic in the air. No, Rita's using magic to eavesdrop, she must be…" Hermione trailed off, pondering, "If I could just find out what it is… Ooh, if it's illegal, I'll have her…"
"Haven't we got enough to worry about?" Ron pointed out, "Harry is tied first with Diggory, and there is only one task left. Do we have to start a vendetta against Rita Skeeter as well?"
"I'm not asking you to help!" Hermione snapped, standing up and crossing her arms, "I'll do it on my own!"
Hermione marched out of the Common Room, surely heading to the library. The two boys shrugged at each other, moving onto much blander conversations. Madeline and Fred eventually returned to their chess game.
"What was that all about?" Fred wondered quietly.
Madeline sighed, "A rather nasty article was published about Hermione. Pansy and that lot were talking about it this morning."
"Ouch," Fred commented, "That Skeeter woman is a right piece of work."
Madeline nodded, eyeing the door leading out of the Common Room. She hadn't known Hermione for very long, or very well, but she knew that getting on her bad side was perhaps not the most desirable of fates.
She turned back to Fred, moving her pawn forwards, "Your move."
It had been a week since the Witch Weekly article about Hermione had been published. From what Madeline had heard from Fred, who had in turn heard from Ron, Hermione had received a ridiculous amount of hate-mail, which had resulted in a multitude of visits to the Hospital Wing. In fact, a few days prior, Madeline had witnessed Hermione running out of the Great Hall with painfully blistering hands, no doubt from a nasty hex placed on a letter.
It was the following Friday. Madeline had been busy trying to make a good impression on Snape by nailing all of her essays. After all, she really did enjoy potions. It was a form of magic that was easy for her; it made sense. She'd been up late the night before finishing one of his most recent homework essays off, basically sleep-walking her way to the Great Hall with her friends in the morning.
"You look like death rolled over," Daphne commented at Madeline's dishevelled ponytail and darkening under-eyes.
"You're awfully nice in the morning, aren't you," Madeline grumbled as they entered the Great Hall. She rubbed her eyes, "Seriously, Snape is going to be the death of me."
"Of us all at this rate," Theo corrected, pointedly looking at Daphne.
"My genius needs time to brew in here," Daphne explained, tapping her head, "Before being put onto parchment for you simpletons to understand."
"So you haven't started the essay?"
"Nope," Daphne replied proudly.
The trio sat down at the Slytherin table, Madeline almost instantly pouring herself a steaming cup of coffee. She really should lay off the caffeine; maybe after she'd graduated and gotten herself a lofty job as a Potions Master. Then she could create something stronger than black coffee to keep her alive.
Madeline was far too asleep to notice the odd stares the rest of her house gave her, particularly Blaise and Pansy, who seemed to be congregated around something in front of Pansy. She took a large sip of coffee, sighing in relief at the warmth that flooded into her. Although it was now March, it was still fairly cold in Hogwarts.
For a long few moments, Madeline didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. She didn't notice how the Slytherin table was slowly falling silent, or how some of the students from the other houses dared to stare at her so openly from their seats. It took the ever-tactful Terence Higgs to point it out, as he sat himself down next to Daphne.
"Bloody hell Bisset, I didn't think you had it in you," Terence whistled, looking at Madeline with wide eyes.
Madeline narrowed her eyes at the boy, "It's too early for riddles, Higgs. What do you mean?"
"I mean, it takes some guts to show up for breakfast after that article," Terence shrugged, his hand reaching over to grab a piece of toast from the tall stack in the middle of the table.
Madeline's hand darted forwards, grabbing Terence's wrist and squeezing it tightly, "What the hell do you mean?"
Terence looked at her in confusion, "Have you not read Witch Weekly? It's all everyone's talking about."
Madeline's eyes widened. She let go of his arm, spotting a copy of the gossip magazine in front of Pansy. She quickly leant over, grabbing the magazine from the table and flicking through the pages rapidly.
"Hey!" Pansy protested, but Madeline ignored her. Instead, she desperately searched for her name, finding the article only a few pages in. Daphne and Theo leant over the magazine as the trio began reading.
In preparation for the final task of the prestigious Triwizard Tournament: I, Rita Skeeter, have decided to personally interview students at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to ensure their wellbeing.
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is no stranger to it's prestigious reputation, and it seems that it has reached overseas to our lovely neighbours in France! And here is where we meet the newest transfer student in Hogwarts; Madeline Bisset.
Sorted into Slytherin House, Madeline made quite an impression on the student body. She is described as arrogant and short-tempered by visitors of the school, which should come to no surprise when looking at her family history.
The Bisset Family is a very powerful French pure-blooded family, with ties to the French division of the Ministry of Magic. However, being rich and powerful of course comes with it's downfall, for it seems that the Bisset family also had ties with the early beginnings of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named followers; Death Eaters. In fact, it seems that Madeline's own mother fought in the Wizarding War alongside names such as Rosier and Jugson. Perhaps the fact that she has befriended the youngest of the Nott family, another family heavily involved in the Wizarding War, suggests that this allegiance never truly went away, and perhaps has been inherited down to the youngest Bisset? Are we sure we want someone like this roaming the halls of the school your children attend?
Madeline was, of course, sorted into Slytherin house for her self-preserving and cunning ways. A great addition to the long-line of successful Slytherin wizards. However, perhaps the most interesting anecdote of Madeline's family stems from her own parents. Rumour has it that her parents were star-crossed lovers; on different sides of the war, and only one remaining alive. A tragic story that surely cannot make for a very steady upbringing.
Sources have stated that Madeline had befriended Harry Potter, and is in fact dating Harry Potter's best friends brother, George Weasley, also a pureblood. It is rumoured that-
Madeline crumbled the magazine and threw it across the table, landing directly into a pitcher full of pumpkin juice. She couldn't bare to read any more; she knew Rita Skeeter would have it in for her, but to write an article, to bring her family into it… Hell, to bring the Weasley's into it, albeit she did get the wrong brother.
"Didn't know you'd moved onto the other twin," Terence mused dumbly, earning a sharp nudge from Daphne.
"Shut up," Daphne hissed, turning to Madeline, "Ignore that crap."
"Who's the trashy one now, Bisset?" Pansy asked smugly, mimicking the same insult Madeline had thrown at her just a week ago, "How does it feel to be knocked off your high horse? Although I think she could've done much worse. I might owl in a couple of quotes myself for a followup ar—"
"Shut your pug-shaped face Parkinson," Madeline snapped venomously, standing up, "I don't care about whatever crap Rita Skeeter wants to print about me."
"You're acting like you care," Pansy smirked, crossing her arms.
Madeline glared at the girl, picking up her bag and turning to her friends. She didn't need to be here, "I'll see you in class."
With a final sharp glare, Madeline stormed out of the Great Hall, not being able to bare looking at the Gryffindor table.
Madeline got through her lessons ignoring everyone and everything, except for Theo and Daphne of course. They tried to calm the hot-headed girl, but she simply reassured them that she'd be absolutely fine once she had Rita Skeeter's head on a stick.
She had received some odd looks from Gryffindor students, but Madeline simply kept her head up high. Quite frankly, it hadn't been too bad; a short article in a random page of a gossip magazine wasn't about to ruin her year. She wouldn't let it ruin her year. She could deal with the odd rumour about her, as long as she held her head up high.
She avoided the Great Hall for lunch, opting to return to the Common Room and burn every single issue of Witch Weekly she could find ("Yes Daphne, that includes the four-page editorial on silk wand-holders"). Although she wouldn't admit it out loud, she was also most definitely avoiding Fred.
She had to face the facts; his family were most definitely the perfect example of everything good in the world. They were pureblooded wizards, and they didn't let that define them. He'd seen it in Ron's unrelenting hot-headedness, and in the twins own candour. Hell, she'd seen it in Ginny's fieriness the few times she'd been able to speak to the girl.
And here she was: the Bisset daughter. She was no different to Draco really; born into a family with far too much money and far too much pride. A family of cunning, of spite and, most plainly, evil. Historically, her family history was probably tainted with more blood than anyone could bare speak about. She didn't know how involved they had been in the war, but her family could have been the kind of people who wouldn't blink twice at hexing the Weasleys if they stood in their way. Or worse.
And there was absolutely no way Fred could still be attracted to her with the prying stares of his house weighing him down. There was no way he'd still want to be involved with someone like her. She'd heard how the Gryffindors spoke about Draco, how she herself spoke about him. And she was fundamentally no different to him, really.
She knew she had to speak to him, but she decided to take the cowards route, hiding in the Common Room. She sat on the floor in front of the lit fireplace, knees drawn to her chest and her chin resting on top. She stared into the flames as the magazines shrivelled and burnt to a crisp, ignoring the sound of approaching footsteps.
"Nice article, Bisset," Draco Malfoy drawled as he stood behind her, watching the fire. He seemed to be holding an important letter in his hand, marked with the Malfoy crest. Madeline assumed he was writing back to his father.
"Shut up, I'm not in the mood," she sighed, rubbing her eyes tiredly.
"Oh come on, it wasn't that bad. She made you out to be powerful."
"Power is nothing if it's not backed by sincerity," Madeline scoffed, "That article is designed for people to start making unfounded assumptions about me."
Draco paused, "Since when do you care what people think about you?"
Madeline turned to look up at him, "What?"
"This wouldn't bother you if you didn't care about what other people think," Draco observed, "So stop pitying yourself and stop caring about everyone else."
Madeline furrowed her eyebrows, thinking for a few long moments, "Why are you being nice to me?"
"I'm not being nice," Draco answered almost immediately. His face was contorted into his usual sneer, as it always was, "The smell you've made burning those magazines is disgusting. I can barely think."
Madeline rolled her eyes. Of course, he'd always be an ass, but he did have a point. She shouldn't care what other people thought about her, as long as she had the people she cared about by her side. It didn't matter what Hannah Abbott in Hufflepuff thought about her, or Molly Weasley, or anyone for that matter. She was proud to have such a strong sense of self, and Rita Skeeter was not going to take that away from her. And so, article be damned; she was going to go and find Fred.
"Also, your boyfriend has been asking about you," Draco drawled, "How cute."
"He's not my boyfriend."
Draco raised an eyebrow, "Because of the article?"
"No," Madeline sighed, "Because he's just… Not."
Draco paused for a long moment. His eyes stared into the fire, refusing to look at the girl.
"Then go change that and stop moping around," he ordered, "It's pathetic."
Madeline looked at Draco in surprise. He didn't look back, and instead continued to stare into the fire. Although he couldn't see it, she offered a small smile.
Draco wasn't being nice; he was being an ally. He wasn't being a friend by any means, but he understood what it felt like to be judged by your family tree.
And so, for the first time, Madeline Bisset and Draco Malfoy understood each other more deeply than the other could explain. A connection that only they could mutually understand.
Madeline quickly stood up and left.
Madeline found herself outside of the Gryffindor Common Room once again, the Fat Lady swinging her portrait open without a second thought (something she was sure McGonagall wouldn't be happy about). Apparently, she'd also alerted the house of her arrival, which explained why she was greeted with a flurry of red hair and strong arms around her waist.
"Are you alright?" Fred asked as he pulled away, yet still kept his hands on her waist. Madeline had to work very hard in order to ignore the pounding feeling in her chest.
"Yeah, fine," Madeline managed, "So… You read it?"
"Kind of," Fred admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, "But you know I don't care about that stuff, right?"
"Yeah, sure," Madeline nodded, a little flutter blossoming in her stomach, "Not even that she mistook you for George?"
Fred shrugged, "That bit was a bit rubbish; assuming George was your boyfriend."
Madeline felt her face heat up, "Boyfriend?"
"I was going to ask you before the Easter break," Fred admitted after a moment, "I get if it's too soon, but I figured since we've been spending so much time together that-"
"Boyfriend," Madeline repeated, letting the word roll off her tongue. She nodded decisively, "I like that."
Fred beamed at once, wrapping his arm around her shoulder gleefully, "Well then Bisset, you're in for hell of a ride."
Madeline laughed, the article forgotten. She really needed to stop doubting herself sometimes, especially when it came to Fred. He was unpredictable, like no one she'd ever met before.
He lead her further into the Common Room, and surprisingly, no one batted an eye at how closely pressed together the two were. Granted, it was probably expected by the way he'd rushed over.
"Madeline!" Hermione greeted immediately, rushing over to the pair, "I couldn't believe it when Harry showed me the article! Why does she have it out for you?"
Madeline shrugged, "Guess that's what happens when you rip up her notes."
Ron's attention was perked. He looked up from his place on the red sofas, "You did what?"
"She tore up the notes she made on you guys in Hogsmeade," Fred supplied smugly, "That's right, my girlfriend is a badass."
"Seriously? You did that?" Ron asked in surprise. For the first time, Ron looked past the green of her Slytherin tie.
Madeline nodded, before turning back to Hermione, "You want to find out how she's been overhearing conversations, right?"
Hermione raised her eyebrows in surprise, but nodded.
Madeline grinned, "Want some help? I'm sure two vengeful heads are better than one."
Hermione blinked in excitement, "Yes! Absolutely! Shall we start at the library after dinner? I'll show you my notes! I think that…"
Madeline half-listened to Hermione, but she was far more concentrated on the warm weight of Fred's arm around her shoulder. It made her blush, her heart skipping a beat as she realised that he was now her boyfriend.
Although she hadn't chosen Gryffindor those many months ago at the Sorting Ceremony, it seemed to have chosen her after all.
A/N: This is kind of a little filler chapter as we mark out the story a little bit more. I think that we've got a few more chapters to go before we reach Order of The Phoenix, which is where the story will truly take off, in my humble opinion.
Thank you once again for all the support on this story! Please leave any ideas or thoughts in the reviews/comments; I love reading them!