Chapter 33: Bucks Fizz

"It's been a while since we've been able to do something like this, hasn't it?"

Fleur and Madeline were lounging at their table while the celebration continued around them, sipping on tall glasses of bucks fizz as they watched the height of French aristocracy waltz around the room.

It was two days before Christmas, and of course, they were at yet another mind-numbing fancy event (or in other words, another reason for the top one percent to show off how much money they had).

Fleur wore an elegant silky long dress (blue, of course), with a crystal clip securing her hair in a bun. Madeline herself was in a similar dress, only dark purple, with sheer capped sleeves instead of Fleur's own sleeveless dress. Both were the picture of elegancy and purity, their mothers amicably chatting on the other side of the room about their futures and the possibility of heirs.

All of which Madeline had always found extremely boring. Sure, she couldn't deny she loved feeling like the bell of the ball with beautiful gowns and curled hair, but over the years, she'd grown tired of the superficial conversations she'd have to endure year after year with rich men who had nothing better to do with time than to waste it. At least with Fleur, she had a friend.

"That one over there?" Madeline subtly gestured to a balding man with an unfitted suit, chatting away to who seemed to be a very bored wife, "He stuffed his pockets with the shrimp earlier. Saw it with my own eyes."

Fleur chuckled quietly, "I saw his wife pour liquor in her wine; they might be a match made in heaven."

"Or in hell."

The two giggled to themselves, each sipping more of their drinks. Madeline liked this; the feeling of being away from responsibilities and from Hogwarts and from-

And from Fred.

She'd written to him a few times over the holidays, mainly to check up on his dad and wish him happy holidays. His replies had been short, despite taking days to arrive. There had been no mention of Madeline being able to visit in the latter days of the holidays, or any mention of anything personal at all, really.

Madeline also noticed that, although once Fred would dot the 'i' in 'Maddie' with a heart, he'd stopped doing that.

"Stop thinking about him," Fleur nudged her friend, giving her a pointed look, "I've seen that face far too many times this week. You're scared; that's fine. But there's nothing you can do while you're here and he's back home."

"I know," Madeline sighed, placing her fingers at her temples, "Trust me Fleur, I know, but you also know I don't like things that are out of my control."

"Well, if it's any consolation, Bill hasn't written much either," Fleur sighed, leaning back in her chair, "We'd agreed that he'd tell his family about us this week, and that he'd write to let me know how it went, but still nothing."

"From what you've told me, you have nothing to worry about," Madeline smiled, squeezing her friend's hand, "He sounds like he's head over heels for you, Fleur."

"Your Fred sounds the same, my dear," Fleur smiled, yet it faltered when she noticed a distant look in Madeline's eyes.

"It's as if when I'm with him, there's a part of him missing, something he's hiding," Madeline admitted, words she didn't know she knew how to speak, "I don't know if I'm overthinking, or-"

"From what I know about you, your family's instinct is never wrong," Fleur replied, and Madeline wasn't sure if she was talking about the Bisset side of her family, or the Dearborn.

Dearborn; now that was something she hadn't thought about for a while. Despite the pendant and the invisibility cloak, not much connected her to her father anymore. She'd denounced her name, had done it when she agreed to becoming the Head of the Bisset family. Her father's journals, and pretty much anything that had belonged to him, had either gone missing with time or been burnt. Her father had taken his secrets to the grave, and it had been a long time since Madeline had thought about bringing them back.

Madeline Dearborn. The name was unfamiliar, but it wasn't unwelcome.

"You need another drink," Fleur decided, taking Madeline's empty glass, "And then we're going to talk about anything that isn't men."

"Steady with your aim."

"I'm trying."

"Don't be sorry, be better."

Madeline sighed, the hours of training taking its place as a familiar ache in her body, "Is this really necessary? We've been going over these for hours."

Isabelle Bisset repositioned her nieces arm, showing her how to properly aim at the target she'd set up, "Trust me; it's necessary. I don't do things half-hearted, you know this."

Madeline aimed once again, earning herself a smirk from her aunt, "Alright, now cast it."

"Confringo!"

At once, the target exploded, chunks of wood flying through the air. Madeline smirked, lowering her wand proudly, "Looks pretty good to me."

"I'll admit, you've come a long way," Isabelle nodded, waving her wand to reassemble the target, "Now, onto the next one."

"It's been hours-"

"From what you've told me, that new teacher of yours is doing nothing to teach you about defensive spells," Isabelle replied calmly, "So, we need to kick it up a notch while you're still here and still able to practice without prying eyes."

Madeline sighed, wiping her hands on her trousers. Her uncle was once again out of the town, meaning she'd been training with her aunt all day. But, he'd be returning the next day, and that meant…

"…Head of the Bisset Family…"

"…The Bisset name and fortune will get you into any room you want…"

I'm going to be the Head of the Family.

"Stop letting your mind wander and focus," her aunt spoke, turning away from Madeline, "I know you're nervous about tomorrows meeting-"

"Nervous is an understatement."

"-But you need to be prepared and focused," her aunt pressed, gesturing to the target, "Now, let's work on the next one."

Isabelle Bisset was a smart woman, Madeline knew that. But she was also a tough woman, and knew the meaning of hard work, and had perfectly manicured a false life around herself. She was seen as a rich housewife with not much to do in her days, but really, she was a fire waiting to burn the world down.

"Magic doesn't come from your wand, it comes from you," her aunt repeated the words she'd told her all those many months ago, looking at her niece with a pleading gaze, "Remember that. Please, remember that."

Madeline sat in her bed that evening, recounting everything she knew about her father.

The snow was falling in thick blankets outside her window, coating her home grounds. The patio her friends had spent the summer on was covered with a thick sheet of white, the sky darkened with clouds, not a star in sight. All was still, but for her mind.

Your father was a smart man. An inventor. He invented something. The Dark Lord wanted it. Dumbledore said I'm the only one who can access it. I have no idea what it is.

It couldn't be her necklace; Barty Crouch Jr. would've ripped it off her neck the second he stepped foot into Hogwarts as Moody. Her necklace was useful, sure, but not enough for it to be something worth killing over (at least, she hoped). And it couldn't be anything in this house; it would be long gone by now.

Madeline twirled her wand between her fingers, tracing the ridges and the tiny holes on the wood. Her aunt had made a comment once, on how her wand had always resembled her fathers. Maybe it was the same knotted type of bloodwood and hickory.

Your father was a smart man.

If he was so smart, how could he have left her here with a puzzle to solve and no one to talk to?

"Madeline, my dear," Alodie Bisset smiled from her seat at the wide dark-oak table, the dim candles making the room that tiny bit darker, "Please, take a seat."

Madeline had been called for bright and early that Christmas eve morning by her grandmother for her first 'informal' meeting. Sat at the table were Claude, her mother, a couple of other relatives, and Alodie. Everyone donned dark clothes, similar to Madeline's dark purple blouse and trousers. There was no parchment nor quills. In fact, the only things at the table were a bottle of red wine and a few glasses.

"Isn't it early to drink," Madeline joked, to which she had no reply. Instead, she quietly sat down across from her grandmother.

"As this is your first meeting, lets have your grandmother brief you on what we expect of you, Madeline," Claude, her uncle, began as he took a sip of his own glass of wine.

"You're young, my dear, but you won't be young forever," Alodie began, smiling sweetly as she crossed her arms on the table, "We expect you to hold up the Bisset legacy for years to come; to understand and uphold our values and traditions, and to service this family in our best interest."

"Could you clarify what that means?" Madeline asked, ignoring the glare from her mother, "Please?"

"When the time comes, of course," Alodie smiled, "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. We have great things planned for this new year… First, let's have Claude explain the family accounts. Claude, if you will?"

Dear Theodore,

Please find enclosed a drawing of my head exploding from all the accounting work I've had to do over Christmas.

Also, Merry Christmas.

Madeline

Dear Madeline,

I'm so glad your holidays are going well.

Merry Christmas,

Theodore

The rest of her time home passed in a blur of balls and numbers and duelling spells. And the next thing she knew, Madeline was back on the train to Hogwarts.

She made her way through the train carriages, trying to find a compartment that wasn't crammed with squealing first-years or sleeping seventh-years. She was almost at the end of the train when she finally found an empty compartment. Well, empty apart from-

"Hello, stranger."

"Gabe," Madeline nodded curtly at the Slytherin boy, "Any room at the inn?"

"Always for you," he nodded, putting his book away into his coat pocket, "Need a had?"

Madeline shook her head, moving her luggage up into the compartment before seating herself across from Gabe, "Did you enjoy your holidays?"

Gabe shrugged, "I went back to Wales for a bit. It was alright, apart from the snow."

"I've never been to Wales," Madeline mused, "My father's family was from there."

"Was?"

Madeline cleared her throat, nodding once, "But anyway; your holidays?"

Gabe seemed to catch the hint quickly enough, "Fine, yeah. Yours?"

"Fine too," Madeline mumbled, sighing and placing her head against the window. The train had left the station, the scenery changing from a drab grey London to a beautiful frosty countryside.

She slept the rest of the way to Hogwarts.

"There she is!" Daphne cheered as Madeline and Gabe lugged their luggage into the Slytherin common room. Daphne threw her arms around her best friend with a giggle, "I've surprisingly missed you, Bisset."

"The feeling is surprisingly mutual," Madeline grinned, hugging her friend back. Theo was the next to step up, giving both the girls a hug as they fully stepped into the common room.

"You look fresh," Daphne commented, looking at Madeline's intricate dark orange blouse and black pants, "Regal, even."

"Two weeks in the height of French wealth will do that to a girl," Madeline grinned, looping her arm into Daphne's, "But I'm glad to be back, you know?"

"As are we," Daphne grinned back, "Let's get you unpacked, shall we?"

In Daphne's world, getting Madeline's luggage unpacked meant hours of laughing and gossiping in the girls dormitory, Theo having snuck in, of course. After robes were hanged and shoes put away, the trio decided to head down for dinner.

"I'll be right down," Madeline promised as Theo and Daphne made their way downstairs to the common room.

In the silence of her room, Madeline took a deep breath. She hadn't heard from Fred in a week. Hell, she hadn't written to Fred in a week. She didn't know what she should say… Nice holidays? That sounded lame. Hope your dad's alive! Even worse.

Madeline ran her hand over her Slytherin robes, hung ready for the following morning. Her hands caught on the pocket, a slither of gold flashing between the fabric. The galleon; Madeline had forgotten about that. She thought about returning it to Hermione for a moment, but her instinct told her to keep it. She didn't know why, but that's what she did.

She left the galleon in her robe pocket, releasing her hair from her bun and letting it fall around her shoulders. It was longer; not much longer than it had been in September, but definitely still longer, falling in gentle waves. She slipped the hair tie on her wrist, sliding her wand in her pocket and setting off to find her friends once more.

The Slytherin Trio set off for dinner together, chatting despite having spent hours together already. That was their friendship, in Madeline's opinion; easy. Carefree. Light. Their friendship was right.

The trio passed through crowds easily; people parted for them. Greengrass, Nott, and Bisset. Those names would incite fear in the right rooms, but in Hogwarts, it just created power. Power that was not unwelcome, thank you very much.

"Fleur sends her wishes, by the way," Madeline remembered as they stepped into the entrance hall, "She's doing well, by the way Theodore."

"I'm glad," Theo replied without missing a beat, "She's a lovely girl."

Daphne rolled her eyes, "Don't play it cool Theo."

"We're just friends, Greengrass."

"You guys go ahead," Madeline interrupted as they reached the entrance to the Great Hall, "I should wait for Fred; probably should speak to him, you know?"

"Look at Bisset doing the responsible thing," Theo teased, nudging her.

Madeline rolled her eyes, pushing them along, "Save me a seat, yeah?"

"Always!"

She smiled as she watched her friends walk into the Great Hall. Although it had only been two weeks, she'd missed them dearly.

She was lost in her thoughts for just a moment, until she heard a familiar voice only a few steps behind her.

"I'll let you know in the usual way when the next one is," Harry hissed to the Hufflepuff boy, just in earshot for Madeline to overhear, "But I can't do it tonight, I've got to go to, uh, remedial Potions. But, uh- keep it in your pocket, yeah?"

"You take remedial Potions?" Zacharias Smith asked incredulously, the two walking past Madeline without a second glance as they entered the Great Hall.

Madeline furrowed her eyebrows. No, Harry did not take remedial Potions. Draco would've teased him for it by now. And let him know what in the usual way? Usually, she'd forget overheard conversations, but something felt important. Damn her and her instincts.

"Madeline?"

She spun around to come face to face with none other than her boyfriend. Her unfairly handsome boyfriend, by the way.

"Freddie," Madeline breathed, a smile breaking out on her face as the two embraced.

Madeline buried her head into his shoulder, inhaling. He smelt like… Home, somehow. Not like France or like the Slytherin common room, but like marshmallows at a fireside, or hot chocolate on a cold day.

"Is he okay?" Madeline asked quietly, receiving a small nod from Fred.

"Fully healed," Fred smiled as he pulled away, holding her in his hands.

But his smile didn't reach his eyes, and he avoiding her eyes. And in that moment, Madeline knew something was wrong. Something that was far more than just cancelled plans.

For the first time, it felt like Fred couldn't see her.

He hadn't called her Maddie.