CHAPTER 22: A Short Summer

January, 1975

The Gryffindor Common Room

Hogwarts

Caradoc Dearborn sat at the Gryffindor fireplace, quill in hand as he elegantly wrote on his finest pieces of parchment. He smiled wistfully into the flames, his heart poured out onto the pages. Never had he met such a beauty, with a sharp mind and cunning smile. She'd bewitched him with a simple glance, he was sure, for he could not imagine there to be any feeling more intense than this.

"Are you writing to your girlfriend?" Mary Macdonald teased, skipping over and throwing herself onto the sofa next to her best friend.

The sofa jolted as she jumped next to him, but thankfully his quill didn't run across the papers. He rolled his eyes, "She's not my girlfriend."

"Ah, but you want her to be," Mary corrected him, her arms behind her head as she threw her feet onto the coffee table, "So tell me; are her eyes dazzling? Does she spin golden thread?"

"You read far too many muggle fairytales," Caradoc laughed, "No. She's sharp. And witty. And knows the ways of the world far better than I think the world itself does."

Mary raised her eyebrow, looking at her best friend carefully. She sighed, and nodded, "You love her."

Caradoc traced the edge of the paper in his hands, a small smile on his face, "Not yet. But perhaps soon, I will."

The moment between the two best friends was unfortunately interrupted by the sound of pounding footsteps. The two Gryffindors turned around, spotting some of the younger years running down the Gryffindor boy's room. One of them had a folded map in their hands, waving it around out of the others' reach.

Mary rolled her eyes. She knelt onto the sofa and looked at the boys sternly. After all, she'd always had a knack for catching attention.

"Lupin! Cut it out!"

Madeline spent her summer rather productively, she thought.

As soon as she'd returned to France, the summer had sprung. The hot rays of sun bounced off every wall and every leaf, not a cloud in sight when she was near. She spent a long few days lazing in the gardens with a book, as she always did in the summer seasons, fruit always freshly washed in a bowl next to her and her coffee always topped up to the brim. Her mother and grandmother didn't join; they much preferred the coolness of the shade that their patio provided. And besides, the two women had been… Delicate around Madeline. They'd received news of the events of the Triwizard Tournament before she'd returned to France. And so, understandably, they gave her space to grieve.

Madeline tried to move forwards. She didn't forget Cedric, of course not. She couldn't. But she was far, far away from the cold grounds of Hogwarts and the warm, inviting fireplace in the Slytherin Common Room. She could imagine herself, just for a few moments, to be a young witch who had not suffered such grief so early on in life. For a few moments, she could look up to the sky and imagine herself to be spending her days basked in warm sunlight and free from any care.

When the gentle summer rains would eventually come, she began lessons with her grandmother. They were not in academic subjects, but rather in poise, dignity and grace. Madeline had grown far too wild for her grandmothers taste (although she hadn't changed too much, she didn't think), and soon found that the new fire in Madeline's eyes could not be extinguished quite easily.

About a week into the first month, her grandmother discovered why.

A letter came for Madeline from a certain Weasley, F. And after the look on Madeline's face, Alodie and Eloise soon realised that Madeline had a boyfriend. Eloise had been ecstatic, asking for every detail of their relationship, but Alodie had simply been happy that Fred's lineage was pureblood and somewhat-honourable. (She was also quite certain they would not last, but she wouldn't speak that out loud, of course.)

And so began Madeline and Fred's exchange of letters.

At first, they would tell each other of their homes. Madeline would describe France from a visitors eyes as best she could, conveniently leaving out the parts where she'd attend some fancy event, or where her mother would complain about the new staffing. In turn, he'd tell her about the Burrow, about his seemingly-endless family tree, and how Molly often shouted at the lot of them for not taking their elbows off the table.

The stories would then turn into anecdotes of their weeks, or childhood stories they hadn't mentioned before. Fred's invite to the Burrow still loomed over Madeline invitingly. He'd mentioned it a few times, and Madeline had agreed at every mention.

However, as the weeks passed, several events occurred that made the summer quite a… Peculiar one.

July 8th

Madeline arrived at her aunt and uncle's house bright and early that morning.

She was greeted with a flurry of breakfast and hugs. Her uncle had rushed out the door the minute she'd opened it, a fancy briefcase in his hand as he explained he was needed for a week away for business, again. Of course, Madeline had known this, and had planned the trip in accordance.

"Your hair has grown," her aunt observed, twirling the dark hair between her fingers as her husband shut the door behind him, "And your freckles are back."

"It's only been a few months," Madeline laughed, swatting her aunts' hands away playfully. Her trunk was being carried away by two maids, which she'd learn later were newly employed.

The two women sat around the kitchen island for quite some time. Madeline told her about Fred, and Daphne and Theo, and how the latter two were set to visit her later that month. Her aunt told her all about new books she'd began reading, almost bragging about the quantity she'd read since she'd last seen her niece, and promised to fill a trunk with worthy novels for Madeline's return to Hogwarts.

Eventually, and perhaps inevitably, the conversation shifted to the end of the last school year.

Or, more specifically, Cedric.

Isabelle Bisset seemed to have waited until she had the chance to dismiss her staff for the day. Despite the early morning, she promised a full-days pay, and insisted on having the mansion alone with her niece. The minute the front door shut once again, Isabelle grew serious.

"Alright," Isabelle began. She folded her manicured hands on the countertop, preparing for the hard conversation ahead, "Tell me everything."

And she did. Madeline told her aunt about how close she'd been with Cedric. About the evenings spent in the Hogwarts kitchens, and how he understood that blood didn't equate to morals. She explained how good he was, and how knowing him made her want to be good, too.

Talking about his memory was the hardest part. Madeline had detached herself from his death, because as much as she wanted to honour him, it was still painful. But she persevered, explaining what had happened; how the necklace had revealed Mad-Eye Moody for an escaped Death Eater, how she'd collapsed, and how He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was most likely back.

Isabelle listened in silence, taking everything in. Her nails dug into her knuckles at the mention of the Dark Lord, but she did not let any emotion show in her face. She was good at that; hiding behind a persona. Madeline wished she had the skill to do that.

"Do you know who Robert Frost is?" Isabelle asked once Madeline had finished the painful story.

Madeline nodded, "A poet."

Isabelle stood. She walked to the fridge, producing two cold glasses (she insisted the fridge was the best to keep them cool), and a bottle of peach iced tea, "He once said, 'In three words I can sum up everything I've learned about life: it goes on'."

Madeline said nothing as her aunt began pouring the tea into the glasses.

"I know it hurts, but it will pass," Isabelle continued softly. The orange of her blouse seemed to catch the rays of sun filtering through the windows. It was barely past ten in the morning, "But if the Dark Lord truly is bad, loss and grief will follow him like a shadow. We will lose people, but we need to go on. For them."

Madeline nodded solemnly, but still said nothing.

"I can't tell you what will happen next," Isabelle admitted, swirling her own glass of iced tea. Her gaze was fixated on her niece, "But I can help you prepare. I can teach you everything I know. Women like us, we need to learn how to survive. But more importantly; how to live."

Isabelle took a long swig of the cool drink.

"That's why I cherish the little things," she winked, tapping the glass with one of her nails, "If your grandmother knew the things I was capable of, she'd have a fit."

Madeline smirked at her aunt. It was true. Madeline too had underestimated Isabelle Bisset once. She had thought of her as a trophy wife for her uncle to parade, but she had much more soul and much more strength than any man she'd ever met.

"Now, drink up," Isabelle grinned, placing her empty glass on the counter, "We've got work to do."

Maddie,

Everything is the same as always here at the Burrow. Mum has been frantically knitting since the Triwizard Tournament. I swear, she's made enough jumpers for a lifetime (and there's a few here for you, too).

George and I have tried a few prototypes of products for the worked, but a few might need your genius mind. How does one balance flavour and explosion? Well, you're the answer to that in many ways.

We haven't heard much from Harry, but I think he's alright. He knows he's welcome here at any time, he'd rush over if there was a problem.

How's your aunts? I know you said she was quite… Intense?

Lots of love,

Freddie.

July 12th

"I can't do it."

"Yes, you can."

"We've been here for hours."

"Only four of them."

"It's literally past midnight."

"Then wake yourself up and let's try again," Isabelle instructed sternly.

They were once again in the ballroom, windows covered and mirrors gleaming. Candles floated above their heads, much like they did in Hogwarts, casting a golden glow to the room.

Madeline had been working tirelessly to try and master the Patronus charm. It was hard, harder than anything her aunt had ever taught her before. They'd been working on it for days, but for some reason, nothing had worked. No memory seemed warm enough or strong enough.

"Try a different memory," her aunt instructed. However, at her niece's expression, she got an idea, "Actually, close your eyes and lower your wand."

"That does not sound like a good survival technique."

"Trust me," she replied, to which, Madeline closed her eyes.

"Okay. Ignore everything that we've done in the last few days. Pretend this is the first time you've done this. Your wand is familiar, but you need to find a new memory. Something untouched; something so precious you preserved it."

Madeline began thinking. She'd run through every childhood memory, every moment she'd spent in France, but nothing. It wasn't a memory, she didn't think. It must be a feeling, something special and untouched, like her aunt had said.

She began thinking of Hogwarts. She remembered the warm feeling of the Great Hall that first time she'd stepped in. Eating breakfast with Fleur in the Courtyard. Sitting with Cedric in the kitchens. Kissing Fred on the Quidditch field.

But then, something flooded her mind. It was no particular memory, just a passing moment, but she saw it clear-as-day.

Her, Daphne and Theo, all sat on the couches of the Slytherin Common Room. Daphne had made some sort of witty remark, which Madeline had said an even wittier reply to, and the trio had burst out laughing wildly. Even Theo, ever-so-composed, had tears forming at the corners of his eyes. They had ended up on the floor in fits, Draco Malfoy sneering as he walked past, yet a small smirk could still be seen on his face from their contagious laughter.

Her special memory, her untouched moment, was her friends, and how they made her feel warm and wanted and happy.

"Expecto Patronum."

Madeline didn't need to open her eyes to know it had worked. She could feel it, like electricity coursing through her very soul. In that moment, she knew that even if the world were to tip and everyone fell off… If the Dark Lord even dared tear apart her perfect moment, she'd always have that feeling to hold onto.

"Impressive," Isabelle commented lightly, nudging her niece, "Look at it."

Madeline opened her eyes, and gasped.

A thin wisp of silvery-blue had begun at the tip of her wand, moving upwards and expanding. It was pure magic, like nothing Madeline had ever seen before. And slowly, the magic moved and changed, forming into something. It took a few moments, but at once, Madeline saw it.

The wisp became longer and thicker, but somehow more solid, and began splitting into three smaller whisps at the end. It began coiling and recoiling, and three heads finally appeared.

It was a three-headed snake, otherwise known as-

"A Runespoor," Isabelle observed, "They use their eggs in potions."

Madeline thought it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

The Patronus eventually began disappearing, but only after it had wrapped around it's own body protectively. Perhaps, it had heard Isabelle's words. Madeline knew why it has been a a Runespoor; three heads for three friends.

"Bloody hell," Madeline eventually breathed from exhaustion, lowering her wand, "Can we get dinner now?"

"It's one in the morning."

"And who's fault is that?"

"…Better late than never."

Freddie,

I can't wait to add more knitwear to my collection. Great timing as well; the summer was getting a little too chilly for my liking (sarcasm intended).

Of course I'll help. Send me over some recipes and I'll look over them.

Ah; The Boy Who Lived, keeps on living! I should sell that headline to Rita Skeeter; she'd use it as well.

My aunt has been… Fine. It's been intense, but I wouldn't change her for the world. She's become obsessed with iced tea in every (literally every) flavour. It's worrying. I didn't know so much of it existed.

July 15th

"The car is coming in like, ten minutes," Madeline complained as she followed her aunt up the narrow wooden stairs of the mansion attic.

"And your uncle will be home in twenty," Isabelle replied, flicking the light switch of the attic, "I can't believe I forgot about this until today."

"About what?" Madeline asked, ducking under a low beam above the stairs. She hesitantly followed her aunt into the attic, the door squeaking open, like it hadn't been touched in years.

Madeline looked around in awe at the wooden attic room. The beams were low, but were used as shelves for smaller items such as textbooks and chess sets. The entirety of the walls were lined with furniture covered in white sheets, or stacks of cardboard boxes. A few books sat untouched on a dresser near her, a light sheen of dust on top. She wiped the dust away with her sleeve, peering at the cover as her aunt hurried around the room.

The novels were in a different language, one Madeline didn't understand. She wondered if they had been her aunts, or perhaps her uncles. Or maybe, even her fathers.

"When your father passed, we moved a lot of his stuff to this attic. Your mother found it too painful to go through all of his belongings," Isabelle explained, unveiling a tall wooden wardrobe. She unlaced the ribbon keeping the two handles together, opening one of the doors, "Your uncle went through all of his stuff, but I managed to grab a few bits."

"Like what?" Madeline furrowed her eyebrows, approaching the wardrobe. Her aunt had knelt onto the floor, knocking on the bottom panel of the wardrobe. Eventually, the panel tilted and popped open.

Isabelle removed the plank of wood, revealing a secret compartment. She removed a shoebox, laced in the same red ribbon the handles had been tied with. Carefully, she undid the knots in the ribbon.

"I found this stuffed at the back of one of his bookcases," she began explaining, "If your uncle had found it, he probably would've destroyed it, so I hid it. I'd completely forgotten about it until earlier."

At once, Isabelle opened the box, and Madeline gasped.

"An Invisibility Cloak?!" she asked in disbelief, "My dad had one of those?!"

Isabelle nodded, holding the fabric up, "We figured he'd lost it, because he never mentioned it or anything. The only reason we knew he had one was because he'd use it to sneak to the Owlery to send your mother letters in the evenings. And, by birthright, it should be yours."

Madeline hesitantly took the shoebox, looking at the shimmering fabric in awe. It didn't look too worn or in bad condition, but she knew that the invisibility charm would fade over time. She wondered how long this one had left, despite it being in such good condition.

"Thank you," Madeline breathed, "But, are you sure?"

"It wouldn't feel right for me to use it, and your uncle would get rid of the thing immediately," Isabelle smiled, "Honestly kid; it's yours to take."

July 24th

"I love it here," Daphne Greengrass exclaimed, fisting her glass of juice high into the clear-blue summer sky, "I'm never going back!"

Daphne and Theo had arrived in France just a few days before. The trio, reunited once more, spent their few summer days together wandering the nearby villages, eating French cuisine, and lounging on the Bisset patio with the bright summer sun above them.

Alodie and Eloise had been delighted with Madeline's friends. They were from important, pure-blooded families, and acted like it. Theo's quiet intelligence left Alodie absolutely charmed, and Daphne's enthusiasm ran through every wall of the villa easily, animating dinnertime chatter and morning breakfasts.

With their fifth year looming ahead, Madeline felt like she'd known Theo and Daphne her whole life. The three of them understood each other. They understood when Theo just needed peace and quiet to read, when Daphne needed to vent, or when Madeline needed to immerse herself into an essay. And that bond hadn't shifted one bit in the time they'd been apart.

"We should move here," Daphne continued, lifting her sunglasses from her face. The sun had done her good, her once pale skin now holding a healthy golden glow, "Seriously. Screw Dumbledore, this is so much better than the dungeons."

"Who decided to have the common room in the dungeons anyway?" Theo mused, turning the next page in his book.

"Definitely unfair," Madeline nodded along, "We should revolt."

"Storm Dumbledore's office," Daphne continued, "Demand for better air quality."

Theo couldn't help but snort. He put his bookmark between the pages, closing his book, "We're ridiculous."

"But we have a point," Madeline winked, leaning back into her chair and closing her eyes.

"Seriously Mads, I know I've said it already, but this place is amazing," Daphne gushed, "I can't believe you live here."

"It's the novelty of it all, Greengrass," Madeline rolled her eyes, like a true aristocrat, "I'd be the same way in your house."

"I'd hope so," Daphne joked, "The Greengrasses take interior decor very seriously."

The trio laughed, Theo chiming in, "Your mother nearly had a fit when I used the wrong fork that one time at dinner."

"I remember that!" Daphne gasped, "Bisset, my mother would love you."

"Send her my wishes," Madeline winked, lying back and taking up the sun.

Yes. This was exactly where she needed to be.

August 1st

Theo and Daphne had returned to their homes, leaving Madeline with a pile of homework to get done, and a feeling of dread growing inside her.

No one had mentioned her rise to Head of The Family since her summer return. Hell, she knew they were avoiding mentioning it, but she didn't know why. She wasn't happy about it, sure, but she accepted it. Perhaps they were waiting on her uncle to break some sort of news to her, but she wasn't holding her breath on his appearance this summer. He'd made himself scarce, according to her aunts letters, rushing off to business meetings every other day.

Madeline considered writing Fred another letter, but he had yet to reply to her last one, and it had been almost a week. If she hadn't known any better, she would've thought he was ignoring her. But no, Fred was upfront and direct. He was probably just enjoying time with his family. Yes, that was it.

Madeline's eyes drifted to the pile of brochures her mother had placed on her desk just a few days before. Scholarships for programs for her to enrol into for her summer break next year, in which she'd be travelling to different Wizarding institutions and establishments to learn about potion making, depending which program she got accepted to.

Basically, a summer school for potion dorks like herself and Snape.

Eloise Bisset had attended some herself, it was said. It would be an 'enriching experience', which Madeline basically took as 'I don't know what kind of people you're mixing with in Hogwarts so let's get you surrounded by the 1%'. A summer program for overly privileged kids with an easy-access route into the professional business of being a Potion Master.

Madeline hadn't been interested, but then again, she hadn't really given any of them a chance. And so, with Fred on her mind and a month to waste before returning to Hogwarts, she began flipping through the pages of the brochures.

Maddie,

I'm really sorry, but it seems that I will have to cancel the trip to the Burrow. Unfortunately we've had a nasty leak in the ceiling and we can't have any guests. I hope your summer has been going well!

Freddie

August 14th

Okay. So.

Madeline wasn't a jealous or insecure person. Hell, she was far from those things. But the fact that Fred had so bluntly uninvited her to the Burrow, after three weeks of no letters… It didn't sit right with her at all.

Besides, the Weasley's were wizards. Couldn't they magic a leak to repair itself?

She'd sent a letter to Daphne immediately, asking for her professional opinion. It would be a few days before she received a reply, which left her packing her trunks for Hogwarts extra early, pacing her room nervously.

God, Fred was a boy. Why was she getting worked up over a boy?!

She huffed in annoyance, deciding that perhaps the best thing to do was to reply with a friendly letter, assuring him all was well, and to continue with her day. But, all her homework was done, her mother and grandmother were out, and she was alone in the middle of rural France with nothing to do.

She huffed, throwing herself back onto her bed. No, she wasn't going to let Fred's bluntness ruin her day. She grabbed parchment and quill, quickly scribbling a reply for her owl to send back. She then grabbed the nearest novel she could find, one her aunt had given her, and stubbornly began reading.

Madeline Bisset was not about to get outdone by a Weasley.

Fred,

No worries! I'll see you in September.

Madeline Bisset.

"She's pissed off," Fred concluded, rubbing his face as he fell back into his bed, "She signed with her full name."

"Doesn't she usually do that?" George asked, taking a seat besides his twin.

Fred shook his head, rubbing his eyes, "No, It's always been Maddie. She either knows somethings up, or she's pissed off."

"Neither sound good for you."

Fred looked around the unfamiliar room. Number 12 Grimmauld Place had served as his home for the last week, but it refused to grow any warmer to him despite the passing days. Everything around him was happening and changing so quickly, and as much as he kept a happy grin on his face, he needed to talk to someone about it all. But, he couldn't talk to Madeline about it.

Because, in learning about the Order of The Phoenix, he'd found out about what the Bisset family truly was all about.

A/N: Hehe… I'm back

IM SO SORRY FOR HOW LONG THIS BREAK WAS! I took some time for myself to get my head around assignments and write the start of a few more fics. The highlight of my break was me reading 3 500-page books in 24 hours. I am READY to get sucked back into this story; lets go!

(I also wrote out the entire plot for OOTP so we've DEFINITELY got a whole other year planned ready to go!)