Chapter 42: The Last Summer

Madeline didn't expect to return home to smiles and hugs. No; quite the opposite, actually.

After being named as one of the students who had helped Harry Potter in the battle in the Department of Mysteries, her name had begun circulating much more than it had in the previous year, even after Rita Skeeter's article. And usually, Claude Bisset would absolutely love the publicity.

But not this time.

Madeline had barely stepped into the house before she was pulled into the dining room. There, she found herself faced with her mother, uncle, aunt, and grandmother. And they were not pleased in the slightest.

"Harry Potter," the first words out of Claude Bisset's mouth as he clutched a cigar between his fingers, "That's who you decided to associate with?"

"Darling," Isabelle tried, gently placing her hand on her husbands arm, "I'm sure she can explain-"

"No," Claude shook his head, shaking Isabelle's hand off him, "I thought you were smarter than this, Madeline. Now you've put a target on our back-"

"Don't you think I did you a favour?"

Every set on eyes turned to Madeline, who stood proud and strong in the room, staring her uncle down. She continued, "I'm not blind to what side of the Wizarding War we aligned to, Uncle. I know what our beliefs were, and perhaps yours still are. But in this situation; don't you think I took the media's eyes off our family by fighting alongside Harry Potter? Showing everyone we're the good guys?"

Alodie Bisset hummed, folding her arms, "She has a point, Claude."

'Good', Madeline thought, 'I didn't spend two hours practicing that speech in the train for nothing.'

"So you believe that you have your family's best interest at heart, do you?" Claude pressed, stepping forwards, "Are you willing to do what it takes to keep the Bisset bloodline alive? Even with the Dark Lord returning?"

"Isn't the fact that you believe in me the reason I'm going to be the next Head of The Family?"

Claude hummed, taking a step back. He took one long drag of his cigar, looking over to Madeline's mother, "Eloise, what do you think?"

"I think," Eloise breathed, folding her hands neatly in front of her, "That although Madeline's actions were rash and impulsive, they've brought no immediate… Consequences."

"Yet," Alodie muttered.

"If you can prove yourself to us as a family - that you are loyal to the Bisset name - I see nothing wrong," her mother finished, giving Madeline a knowing look.

Madeline wanted to turn around and look at Isabelle. She wanted her aunt to assure her that everything was going to be okay. She didn't know who to trust in her own family anymore, and that was terrifying. She didn't know if her own mother was on her side, or what game Claude was playing. And now, being alone without her friends, she felt small.

"I can, and I will," Madeline nodded, "Now, can I please go unpack?"

Madeline had to wait three days before she was finally alone with her aunt.

It was a flurry of meetings and events with her uncle, being presented to family friends as the future Head of The Family. Not that they didn't know already. The news had flown through France faster than Madeline could complete an essay. She was pretty sure even the birds knew her name by now.

So when they finally had a moment together, with the taps running as they began washing up in the kitchen, she asked her.

"I found out something," Isabelle began, whispering despite being drowned out by the obnoxious laughter from the dining room, "Something I'm not sure you're ready to hear."

"I buried a friend, aunt," Madeline cut her off, "And I watched a man die last year. Not to be blunt, but I can handle it."

But before her aunt could speak another word, the two were whisked away by Madeline's mother with a promise of board games and liquor.

They forgot about the conversation for days.

Dear Draco,

I'm not quite sure what to write to you about.

France is, predictably, as French as always. The food is great, although I'm starting to miss you those Sunday roasts you constantly bang on about.

How are your holidays?

From, Madeline.

"So, how do you feel about him?" Isabelle asked eventually on that second summer week, the two lounging by the poolside of Isabelle's home.

Madeline sighed, rubbing her temples and lifting her sunglasses. Her aunt was the only one she'd told about Draco. She hadn't even told Theo and Daphne, and she didn't know if she wanted to. Right now, she was quite content with the idea of keeping whatever they had to themselves. Her little secret. It had only been a kiss, after all.

"I didn't think time would be followed by a storm," Madeline eventually confessed, "After Fred and I broke up, I thought all I needed was time. But Draco feels like a storm, like every emotion you feel guilty about feeling, all in one person. And it's so exciting."

Isabelle smiled, albeit a little sadly, leaning back in her chair, "Ah. I felt like that, once."

"For my uncle?"

Isabelle snorted, "No, that was a different kind of love. Enjoy the feeling he gives you, yeah? Don't shy away from it. It won't do you any good."

Madeline nodded. No shying away from emotions.

Dear Madeline,

I don't like it when you're so formal.

My holidays are average.

I'm not quite sure what to write to you about. I'm not very good at expressing myself. I'd much rather see you. But that's also for other matters that we most certainly can't take part in over letters.

From, Draco.

Madeline did exceptionally well in her OWLs, thank you very much.

She'd obtained a high grade in all of her classes, and especially in the ones she wanted to continue in. Potions was a guarantee, of course. DADA had been suspended due to the interrupted curriculum, but she was of course going to take a NEWT in that. Her family hadn't been entirely impressed, expecting nothing less from her than high grades and punctuality. Nevertheless, she was delighted.

Until, of course, her aunt finally remembered what she had to tell her.

"Do not trust anyone in this family, Madeline," her aunt had whispered to her in the darkness of the night that one fateful evening, "I discovered some things during your time away. Once again, I'm not sure if you're ready to hear them."

"I am," Madeline nodded bravely into the dark room, the rest of their family soundly asleep upstairs, "I'm ready."

Isabelle bit her lip. She took a deep breath, recalling the endless nights of listening into her husbands hushed conversations. She'd finally put the pieces together, and there was little left to do but to give them to Madeline herself.

"Your grandmother struck a deal with someone," she began, "That someone being He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"Your father had an ability that the Dark Lord wanted. What that was, I'm not sure of. The Dark Lord wanted your father gone, and at the time, he got whatever he wanted. However, it is believed that you have this ability, too. And only you."

Of course. The Rebound Curse. What Dumbledore had told her.

Madeline frowned, "I don't know about anything-"

"I know that," Isabelle nodded, "But your grandmother came up with a plan. A way to ensure this family stayed prosperous for decades on end. Why do you think we haven't vanished from the papers, Madeline? Why our names are still so important? Your grandmother traded something for power."

"Power is-"

"She traded you."

Madeline felt her words die in her throat. She took a deep breath, "What?"

"She is putting you as the Head of The Family, because by doing so, you enter a contract with this family to always put your name and your blood first," Isabelle continued, despite feeling sick to her stomach to have to tell her niece this, "Which means… If the Dark Lord were to return, and he asked you to do this bidding-"

"I'd have no choice," Madeline finished, swallowing shakily, "They are setting me up to be a weapon for him."

"If he returns-"

"He's already here," Madeline shook her head, her hands shaking, "If I become Head of The Family, I become his puppet. If I don't, I lose everything."

"This is why you can't trust anyone, Madeline," her aunt repeated, "There's more to this; I know there is. But I need the time to figure it out. I can't risk putting you in danger."

"It's my life on the line-"

"It's everyone's life on the line," Isabelle pressed, "Every single student in Hogwarts. Every Wizard or Muggle you've ever encountered. Its everyones lives on the line, and we need to tread carefully."

Madeline had no words left. Really, she had nothing left in that moment. She knew she needed to get back to Hogwarts, and as soon as possible.

Because everything suddenly made sense. Voldemort wanted her on his side, to ensure she could never kill him. She was, allegedly, the only one who could by some miracle perform the Rebound Curse. A curse that could be fake, for all she knew. A curse that got her father killed. And she was meant to… To figure this all out. On her own.

Her head was full of noise.

Dearest Draco,

It seems that I will be returning to Britain far earlier than expected.

Do seek me when you're back in Hogwarts, will you?

Madeline Bisset.

Dear Madeline,

Something tells me that we won't have to wait long, after all.

Draco Malfoy.

Madeline had a sneaking suspicion that he'd planned this.

It was her last event of the summer season before she'd return to Hogwarts. She was dressed in the finest dark red silk dress she could find, with a slit running from her lower thigh to the ground. She knew she looked divine, and with that confidence, she'd declined each and everyone who'd asked her to dance that night.

She only wanted to dance with one person.

Madeline and Draco's letters had been few and far between. Not by anyones fault, but more so because their words held weight. She didn't need to write him an essay to say what she needed to say. Or perhaps, she was enamoured with his mystique. She didn't want to think about it all that much.

But then, between lovesick couples in the crowded ballroom, she'd spotted him.

She'd known this was one of the larger events in the summer, but she hadn't realised exactly how many people had been invited. And there he was, stood next to his dad, dressed impeccably in a black suit and white ruffled shirt. He'd somehow grown over the summer. Leaner. He looked more like a man, and she supposed that she, too, looked more like a woman.

The minute their eyes met, Madeline felt the room slow down.

He eyed her in the dress. He loved her in the dress, despite the red being far too close to the Gryffindor red for comfort. And when she nudged her head just slightly to the left, indicating to the outdoor patio, he followed immediately.

The moment the door closed behind them, their lips were locked.

Madeline didn't know what had taken over her. She'd never been like this. Not even in her relationship with Fred. They'd kissed once before this. And yet, here she was, with one hand on his shoulder and the other one tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck. His rested around her waist, holding her tightly to him as they continued to make out. Not a single word had been exchanged.

His thumbs stroked the dimples in her lower back through the dress. Both of them struggled to think of a reason to come up for air. Why should they, when kissing felt this good?

When they finally parted, Draco was the first to speak.

"Hey you," he whispered into her ear, a smirk on his face as he looked at her face. And, god, had it been the distance? Had he always ignored how utterly intoxicating she was?

"Not that I'm complaining, but why are you here?" she eventually managed, both hands now on his shoulders, partly for stability.

Draco shrugged, "I don't usually come to these things, but my dad knows your uncle."

And there it was. The words that brought Madeline back to earth. Her uncle.

"Oh," was all she could manage, fingertips drumming on his broad shoulders. Had they gotten broader? She wasn't sure, but the fact that they were under her hands - that she could feel him - was everything she hadn't realised she'd needed.

"You look," he paused, taking her in all at once, "Spectacular."

"You don't scrub up too badly yourself, you know," Madeline teased, "Hoping to see a special someone?"

"Just you."

"Then I'm honoured," Madeline smiled, a nervousness starting to tick inside her, "But, uh… Should we talk about this?"

"About this?"

"Us," Madeline clarified, "I mean, we just had a rather heavy makeout session two feet away from a room full of the most important people in the Wizarding world."

"We're more important than them," Draco teased.

"But what are we?"

"We are… Whatever you want us to be," Draco eventually admitted, struggling to find the right words, "When I… When we were in the common room, and I asked you to kiss me for that first time. I didn't know what took over me. I didn't know how I hadn't seen you before."

"Gee, thanks Malfoy."

"But I feel strongly about you," Draco continued, "I-I don't know. I've never done anything like this before. Hell, I bought a new suit just to show up here and sweep you off your feet and here I am with nothing to say."

"Well," Madeline picked up, "What if you don't have to say anything, for once in your life?"

"What-"

"We can just be Draco and Madeline," Madeline interrupted him, "It's just us, isn't it? No one else needs to know how or why. No one needs to be involved. We can just walk into Hogwarts in a few weeks with our heads held high. No one can touch us."

"No one can touch us," Draco echoed, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

Madeline leant in closer her lips barely an inch from his.

"And if they try," Madeline whispered, the smell of lemongrass engulfing Draco, "Then we'll give them hell."

A/N: The fact I haven't updated in 6 months is disgraceful, but here I am! And here begins the Half Blood Prince part of the story!

This is mainly a short filler chapter to flesh out some plot points ready for the new school year. I really do hope I haven't lost my touch with writing this story, so any reviews/feedback would be much appreciated!

Until the next chapter!