CHAPTER 19: Isabelle Bisset
"Alright, that was good, but you need to hold your wand a little firmer."
"Like this?"
"No. Relax your wrist, it'll allow you to move freely. And remember what I said about your elbows…"
Isabelle Bisset was a smart woman.
For the majority of Madeline's life, she'd assumed that Isabelle married her uncle purely to be a trophy wife by his side. However, she'd let her own prejudice cloud her judgement, unable to see exactly how badass Isabelle truly was.
She'd arrived at the mansion the first weekend of Easter. Her uncle was away on an important work meeting, meaning that the two women had the entire mansion to themselves for the week. She had thought that spending the Easter break with her aunt would be fun. Or well, as fun as learning to duel could be (which Madeline had assumed would be very fun). However, she hadn't exactly taken into account what type of teacher Isabelle Bisset could be.
The minute she arrived, Madeline realised that she knew far too little about her aunt.
The mansion was much different to Madeline's house, with modern furnishing and an eerie, empty gloom. However, the absence of her uncle meant that the two women had spent every day training and teaching, forgoing their day dresses and ribbons for tight black jackets and ponytails.
Isabelle had prepared the long, thin ballroom for this. The walls had been Charmed into misty mirrors, allowing for Madeline to practice with her peripheral vision. The windows had been covered with bedsheets, creating privacy (because no one in the town would ever, ever imagine Isabelle Bisset duelling, or doing anything, really).
Madeline had been training relentlessly to her aunts standards, which were high. She learnt every charm Isabelle threw at her, perfecting the wand movements for each spell until she couldn't go wrong. They'd focused on defence first, because in her aunt's words, "If you can't dodge an Unforgivable, you may as well not learn how to hit."
And, not to brag, but Madeline was good. She'd always been a fast learner, it was ingrained into her by her mother. Sure, she didn't have the years of practical experience her peers did, but theory was her thing. Things made sense to her, and once she could visualise it, she could do it.
"Not bad," Isabelle complimented as she wiped the sweat from her forehead, her usually immaculate hair thrown up into a messy bun, "Again."
"I doubt I'm going to be using a Tickling Charm this often."
"Doesn't mean you shouldn't perfect it," Isabelle pointed out, "Again."
And this was how Madeline spent her break; training, sweating, pushing, because Isabelle was convinced she'd need to know how to duel sooner rather than later. They spent early mornings lounging around the marble breakfast counter, sipping black coffee and eating blueberries. Sometimes, Isabelle would tell her of books she'd read and stories she'd written, all collected in the mansion library, promising to give her a few before her return to Hogwarts.
They hadn't touched complicated things like Patronuses, not yet. That was reserved for the summer break, where Madeline would most definitely be returning to her aunts house for a week or two, at the very least.
"Magic doesn't come from your wand, it comes from you," her aunt explained as the two circled each other, wands drawn towards the other, "Don't use your wand as a source; think of it as a way of directing it."
"Expelliarmus!"
Isabelle's wand was thrown out of her grip, clattering against the mirror behind her and falling to the floor. The older women turned to her niece, a smirk on her face.
"Not bad kiddo," she nodded appreciatively, picking up her wand, "How'd it feel?"
"The thing you said about the wand," Madeline panted, throwing her ponytail over her shoulder, "That really helped."
"Lots of young Witches and Wizards rely far too heavily on their wands," her aunt explained, "Your father was one of them, even as a young man. Would always say 'the wand is the key to everything I do.'"
Madeline peered at the clock on the wall opposite hers; it was nearly eleven at night. She looked back to her aunt hopefully, "Could you tell me more about him?"
Isabelle turned to look at the clock, looking back at her niece with a raised brow, "Tired already?"
"It's literally nearly midnight."
"Alright, fine," Isabelle conceded, "Shall we go to the kitchen? I'll brew some tea."
The two women sat around the marbled kitchen counter, a common occurrence for the last week of Madeline's life. It was bizarre to think that she was two days away from returning to Hogwarts once again. Her time with her aunt had been brief, but she'd learnt far more with her than from most of her classes with Moody.
She sat with a steaming cup of herbal tea between her hands, her aunt with a glass of red wine. Although the two had been training for hours, Isabelle still looked as elegant as always, the stray strands of hair not in her bun falling to frame her face. She leant against the back of the counter, swishing the red wine in her glass as Madeline took a sip of her tea.
"So… What would you like to know?" Isabelle asked, sipping the wine delicately.
Madeline played with the sleeve of her black shirt, the Bisset necklace hanging proudly from her neck, "What was he like?"
Isabelle sighed, looking up to the ceiling in deep thought.
"I didn't know him very well during my time in Hogwarts. He was one of the few Gryffindors that didn't hate Slytherins with a burning passion, so we got on well enough. He was friendly with a boy I was dating at the time, and I'd seen him at some family events. His family was pureblooded too, as you know, so we'd sometimes chat at holiday feasts or Quidditch matches. I graduated a few years before him, and I didn't really pay him too much mind until him and Eloise started writing to each other.
"You see, I met your uncle during one of those business events hosted by my father. He'd attended with your Grandmother and mother, and I'd be lying if I said I didn't fall for him right there and then," Isabelle smiled fondly, clicking her tongue before her gaze dropped back to the glass of wine, "Claude began courting me soon after, and so I spent a lot of time around Eloise. She'd tell me about this boy she'd been writing to, and I had no idea it was Caradoc until I saw them together at mine and Claude's engagement party.
"Caradoc grew up from the boy he used to be. He was a young man with a sharp mind and a brave soul. He'd tell Eloise all about these adventures he wanted to take her on; how he planned to revolutionise the Wizarding World with all his ideas and creations. Eloise was head-over-heels, of course, and your Grandmother was just happy that she'd found someone from a good family."
Isabelle paused as she took a large swig of wine, turning to grab the open bottle and top the glass back up.
"After Claude and I married, my family passed in a tragic accident," Isabelle continued, "It was perhaps the first of many acts of violence in the name of the Dark Lord, although we didn't know that yet. Caradoc proposed to your mother shortly after leaving Hogwarts, and of course, she said yes.
"They had a long engagement, unlike Claude and I. They were taking their time. Caradoc had great plans, and Eloise supported him. You know, I remember a sneaky little rumour in my sixth year where people claimed Caradoc had begun creating secret passages in Hogwarts. No one could find any, so we thought he'd made it up, but I always thought he was exactly the kind of person who'd get away with something like that."
"What happened with the war?" Madeline dared to ask, "People always tell me they were star-crossed lovers, like Romeo and Juliet."
"Ah, you've read Shakespeare. Good on you; Muggle literature has always been very creative," Isabelle praised. Her gaze wandered back to the ceiling in thought, "Yes; the First War broke out. They were going to get married; in fact, I believe they may have gone through with it secret. You'd just been born, barely a few months old when Caradoc left France to return to England. Apparently, an old friend had sent for him, asking for help."
"An old friend?"
Isabelle sighed, "As we both know, it's no secret that the Bisset blood line has always had an allegiance with the Dark Arts, or more recently, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Your mother has always been a family woman, and your father a man who lead with his heart. They were on two different sides of the war, perhaps for Eloise not by choice."
"Romeo and Juliet," Madeline nodded with understanding.
"Exactly," Isabelle nodded, "I don't know what friend called for your father, but I believe they called for people all over, of all ages. Rumour has it, a movement was created to fight against the Dark Lord, and your father was at the very centre of it."
"He was that powerful?" Madeline asked, sipping more of the herbal tea.
"He was resourceful," Isabelle corrected, "And a great inventor. Eloise mentioned that he was working on something big before he left for England. She never spoke about it after his death, and I never asked."
"But he didn't die; he disappeared."
"Kiddo, believe me," Isabelle began immediately, "That man loved you and your mother more than anything. If he survived, he would've come home."
Madeline nodded solemnly. As a kid, she'd always held out hope that maybe, maybe her father had still been alive. But as she grew up, and as she learnt more about his disappearance, she began to accept the truth.
"He disappeared during the war," Isabelle continued, "Some of his friends said he was heading north towards Scotland, others think he may have been going to Hogwarts. His body was never found, but he never returned, and that same day, the Death Eaters carried out attacks much like the one that killed my own family."
He's gone. Madeline accepted this as truth, and she knew this. But sometimes, it was hard to remember.
"Your mother was inconsolable at first, but you were her whole world," Isabelle continued, "Claude and I would help her at first, through her grief during the war. When the Dark Lord was defeated, she moved back to the family house with your grandmother, and they raised you together. And here you are."
"And here I am," Madeline breathed, more for herself than for her aunt.
"You should be proud of your family," Isabelle continued, "Not just to be a Bisset, but to be a Dearborn as well. I'm not sure on your fathers family roots, but I do know his parents were Welsh. Have you ever been to Wales?"
Madeline shook her head, "No, not really. I never managed to reach out to my father's side of the family."
"Maybe that would be a good place to start," Isabelle observed. She watched Madeline with steady eyes for a few silent moments, before placing her glass down. She turned to Madeline with a serious gaze in her eyes.
"Look, kiddo. All the spells in the world can't protect you if you don't know what you're fighting against, or why," Isabelle began, crossing her arms, "Women like us; we're exposed to toxic misogyny all our lives. From dressing up for balls and events to the pressure of finding a husband, it's all to distract us from what's actually happening, because families with old values like ours don't put women in a position of power unless it serves their interest."
"What do you mean?"
"You're a bright kid; you know something is coming," Isabelle continued, a fire blazing in her eyes, "And between us two; I don't think my husband has our best interest at heart when he decided you'd be the next Head of The Family. You need to stay alert, and trust no one."
"Not even you?"
"I'm different; I have nothing to lose," Isabelle shrugged, holding the glass up, "And I drink like it."
And in that moment, Madeline saw her aunt as a woman who had lost her family and learnt to survive. A woman who recognised her worth as more than just a wife; more than just an accessory. She was smart, cunning, and resourceful, and hell of a good duellist.
She could make the world cower at her feet, and she chose not to.
"Thank you, for everything," Madeline said honestly, "For training me, for letting me stay here-"
"Kiddo, you're welcome here anytime," Isabelle interrupted her, "And you better live up to your promise of visiting me in your summer break."
"Definitely," Madeline promised.
Isabelle smiled, a warm motherly smile that could almost echo Eloise's own, "Alright, it's getting late, and tomorrow is our last day together. Off to bed, the both of us!"
Madeline returned to Hogwarts for the final weekend of the Easter break. She returned with sore limbs and a full heart, and hell of a lot more knowledge on duelling magic than she could possibly explain.
She found herself in an alcove underneath a window in the Gryffindor common room with Fred, a mug in each of their hands as they sat opposite each other on the bench. Hermione and Ron were sat around the fireplace, Lee and George in their dorm.
"How was your birthday?" Madeline asked, waving her wand over the mug to stir the tea.
Fred shrugged, "It was alright; mum made a cake, and we spent the day playing Quidditch."
"I shouldn't have expected anything different."
"She's fine about you, you know?" Fred reassured her, "I explained what happened with Rita, and now she's dying to meet you."
"Is that better or worse than her hating me?"
"I have the right to remain silent."
Madeline nudged her boyfriend playfully, "Oi!"
Fred laughed, flicking the hair out of his eyes, "Honestly; she'll love you. You have nothing to worry about."
"Even with Ron's bi-weekly rants about me in the common room?"
"Yup."
"Even with Seamus demanding my head on a stick?"
"Even better."
"Even with my unrelenting ability to piss all of your mates off?"
"Now, that's kind of hot."
Madeline laughed, the kind of laugh where you throw your head back and forget anyone is listening. Being with Fred felt easy; it made her feel light, weightless.
She didn't notice Harry at first, but the sound of the common room door slamming closed alerted the young couple. They both looked up and to Hermione and Ron whilst Harry began furiously whispering something to them.
Madeline turned to Fred, "Shall we be nosy?"
"Absolutely."
At once, and in sync, the couple stood up and made their way over to the Golden Trio. They perched themselves on either end of the long red sofa as Hermione continued her ramble, each holding their mugs close to them.
"It comes down to this," said Hermione, rubbing her forehead. "Either Mr. Crouch attacked Viktor, or somebody else attacked both of them when Viktor wasn't looking. "
"Viktor was attacked?" Madeline asked in confusion.
"What's Mr. Crouch doing in Hogwarts?" Fred asked.
"Viktor and I found him in the forest, completely mad and asking for Dumbledore," Harry explained quickly, lowering his voice, "He kept saying something about Voldemort, the words 'getting stronger,' and something about that missing woman in the Daily Prophet."
Madeline felt a chill run up her spine at the mention of the Dark Lord's name. Sometimes she forgot that few Wizards, like Harry and Dumbledore, were brave enough to speak his name out loud.
"Crouch must've attacked him," Ron interrupted at once. "That's why he was gone when Harry and Dumbledore got there. He's done a runner. "
"I don't think so," muttered Harry, shaking his head. "He seemed really weak - I don't reckon he was up to Disapparate or anything. "
"You can't Disapparate on the Hogwarts grounds, haven't I told you enough times?" Hermione scolded.
"Okay. . . hows this for a theory," said Ron excitedly. "Krum attacked Crouch - no, wait for it - and then Stunned himself!"
Madeline scoffed, Hermione chiming in coldly, "And Mr. Crouch evaporated, did he?"
"Oh yeah…"
"Nice try," Fred mocked, messing up Ron's hair teasingly.
"Harry, you should write to… You-know-who," Hermione slowly suggested, eyeing Madeline wearily.
Madeline didn't take too much offence to Hermione's distrust. Instead, she turned to Harry, "Did you find out what the final task is?"
Harry nodded, "They told us earlier; It's a maze. They're going to place the The Triwizard Cup in the middle. The first Champion to touch it gets full marks."
"Well that's easy," Madeline observed, "Just stick to the left and run like hell."
Fred nodded alongside her, "Or you could fly your way to victory again."
At that precise moment, George came tumbling down into the Common Room, a grin on his face and a letter in his hand. He waved wildly at his twin.
"I hate to break this tea party up, but we've got some… Business, Freddie," George suggested strongly.
Fred looked at his brother and nodded once, turning to Madeline, "See you at dinner?"
"Sure," Madeline nodded as Fred hastily placed a kiss on her cheek (both ignoring Ron's disgusted expression). She turned back to the trio, "I better get going. But uh, good luck with the whole Couch thing."
"Crouch!"
"Same difference, Ron."
The mood in the castle as they entered June became excited and tense again. Everyone was looking forwards to the third task, which would take place a week before the end of term. Madeline had heard from Fred that Harry had been practicing hexes at every available moment. She knew Fleur had been busy doing the same, whilst Cedric could be spotted running laps around the lake with Viktor Krum.
Madeline had offered her help to both Harry and Cedric, both of which politely declined. Madeline was sure it was because they didn't think she could be of any help. After all, she hadn't told anyone about her training with her aunt. Her and Fleur, however, spent a nice little chunk of time together practicing the Four-Point Spell, which would allow Fleur to see if she was going north whilst in the maze.
"I'm bored," Daphne huffed one afternoon, throwing herself back onto the Slytherin sofas.
"Woe is you."
"Shut up, Theodore."
Madeline rolled her eyes at her friends, "How can we possibly entertain you, my dear Daphne?"
"The third task is in a few weeks," Theo suggested, "Can you hold out that long?"
"Absolutely not."
"Can't you go snog Terrence then?" Madeline suggested.
"Nope; I broke up with him."
Theo and Madeline looked at each other in shock, before spinning their heads back to Daphne. Theo was the first to speak, "You what?!"
"Why?" Madeline asked in confusion, "You guys were getting on really well. Didn't you send home a letter about him?"
Daphne shrugged mysteriously, pulling herself up to a sitting position, "I realised that I didn't really fancy him, you know? It's weird to explain; it's like, I know he's attractive, but he's not my type."
Madeline didn't understand, but she nodded nevertheless. "How'd he take it?"
"I think he saw it coming, to be honest," Daphne sighed, leaning back, "I kind of feel bad, but we're still mates. I think."
"That's good," Theo snorted.
And true to Daphne's word, Terence Higgs had taken the breakup incredibly well. The coming of June meant warmer weather, meaning a lot of the Hogwarts students now took to the outdoors for their breaks.
And that very same evening, the Slytherin Trio spotted Terence Higgs cozying up to a fifth-year Ravenclaw under one of the canopied trees in the Courtyard.
Daphne had simply shrugged at the sight, "As long as he's happy, it's none of my business."
Madeline wrote home that same night to arrange for her return to France. She'd be leaving the same day as her friends to return to France for the summer. It had already been confirmed with Dumbledore that she would be returning the following school year, news that Daphne and Theo celebrated animately.
The Slytherin Common Room became busier as the end of term drew closer. Those who had exams would either study together in the common room, or take it to the library if they preferred some peace and quiet. The younger years, including Madeline's year, busied themselves with boardgames and their final pieces of homework.
Madeline and her friends had crammed together with Pansy and Blaise on one of the larger study tables, all trying to work their way through Snape's final heap of assignments before the holidays. It was an unlikely group, but they worked together well enough.
"This is rubbish," Blaise huffed, dropping his quill onto the table dramatically, "How are we meant to know any of this?!"
"We've barely done any practical work this year," Theo observed, "Mixing antidotes is complex and advanced, sure, but we've only brewed them once or twice."
Pansy simply huffed in annoyance as she continued to scribble wildly on her parchment. Madeline and Daphne had eventually given up on their own essays, instead flicking tiny little balls of paper to each other across the table. The group worked in silence for a few more minutes before the sound of a chair scraping across the floor interrupted them.
"You all look dreadful," Draco Malfoy observed as he pulled himself in between Pansy and Blaise.
Madeline rolled her eyes, "You can't say much yourself."
"Are you here to study with us Draco? I could help you," Pansy asked hopefully, her brooding frown flipping into a smile.
Draco scoffed, "I don't need help."
"Then shove off," Madeline interrupted, glaring at the boy.
Draco smirked, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head, "I'm surprised you're even here, Bisset. You're basically a Gryffindor now, aren't you?"
"Why? Jealous you're not the one spending time with Potter?"
Daphne and Blaise quietly laughed, the latter earning a sharp nudge from Draco, "At least I'm not a house traitor."
"Because I'm dating someone, and you're not?" Madeline snapped, "Because it's not my fault no one can stand you long enough to even go on a date with you."
She didn't know why Draco got on her nerves so quickly, but he did. It was something about his arrogant little smirk; the way he already knew he could so easily annoy her. Sure, he'd been civil to her right up to before the Easter break, but all things came to an end eventually. She couldn't stand him.
"Bloody hell, stop flirting," Blaise joked, but he was unable to stop the two housemates from glaring daggers at each other.
Eventually, Madeline stood up, pushing her chair back dramatically, "I'm going to get us food from the Great Hall."
"Take your time."
"Shut up, Ferret."
Madeline had managed to sneak into the Great Hall right as dinner began appearing on the tables. She'd grabbed a tray of sandwiches and a bowl of fruit before sneaking her way back down to the dungeons.
Students often ate in their common rooms, more commonly during exam season, but she wasn't sure how kindly Snape might take to a fourth-year sneaking that much food down to the dungeons. Nevertheless, she quickly made her way to the common room.
She had just managed to get to the staircases when she once again found herself bumping into something, or well, someone. In fact, it had been the same short blonde girl she'd seen those many weeks ago. Thankfully, she didn't drop the tray of food.
"Sorry," the girl spoke softly, a ridiculous pair of pink glasses perched on her face, "I wasn't looking at you."
"Clearly," Madeline muttered. She went to move past the girl, but her soft dream-like voice stopped her.
"Have you figured out how yours work yet?" she asked, tapping her own pink glasses.
Madeline furrowed her eyebrows, "What are you talking about?"
"Spectrespecs," the girl replied, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world, "You've got some."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," Madeline stated, confusion evident in her face, "But, uh, I should go before these sandwiches get… Stale."
The blonde girl shrugged, turning away. Madeline noticed she still wasn't wearing any shoes, and she figured the glasses didn't help with finding them all that much.
Madeline rushed her way back to the Slytherin Common Room, making a mental note to ask Theodore what the hell Spectrespecs were.
A/N: I apologise for the time jumps in this chapter, but we're nearly at the end of Goblet of Fire! I have a MASSIVE document open at all times with the full plot written out, and wow you guys are in for a ride.
I've been in isolation for the last few days (but I don't have COVID, don't worry!), so I'm hoping to actually get to the end of GOF before Christmas!