Boarding the Hogwarts train with a book on mind magic in her mitten-covered hand, Madeline merily chose an empty compartment at the very back of the train. It was in her intention that she would finish this book before the train reached Hogwarts, hence her effort to avoid the general population of students. Her intention, however, was quickly blown by the wind outside the train's window as the tall figure of Valerie Orpington knocked on the glass of the compartment's sliding door.
The pale girl was welcomed by her, as it was only polite to do so, though her smile nearly slipped after the girl confessed that she had been looking for Madeline. Madeline could not send her away after such admission.
So there she was, with her book closed as she exchanged mundane talks about the holiday.
The situation screamed of a red flag. Orpington, after all, was never very social with her housemates. Madeline knew that the girl was not shy, the tall girl was rather callous when she declined Parkinson's offer to participate in her foolery - though the word being used at that moment was 'friendship' - But the girl shied away from any interaction. She even made an effort to not be seen with others in her house. Madeline herself valued her privacy, but even she thought that the extent Orpington took it was unthinkable.
Now the same girl was approaching her and Madeline was desperate to know why.
It was in the middle of idle discussion about the coldness of the weather that Madeline burst.
"Am I correct if I assume that my nightmare prompted this sudden... visit?"
The pale girl looked away, though her expression was flat.
"I am - well, I was told by my parents to choose my acquaintance wisely, considering my family's political leaning. But I've realised that my approach was wrong. I could still use a friend. I thought, after that night, that you probably could use a friend too." The girl turned her head back to her, her eyes expecting.
There were so many things to unpack from the girl's words.
The first thing that came to her mindframe was Orpington's family, particularly Orpington's relative, Thomas Orpington, who was the current Head of Magical Accident and Catastrophes Department. The next thought came up by association of the ministry - The Ministry higher ups were all already aware of Voldemort's movements. Orpington's family must have known about what was really going on and they cautioned their daughter to make the right associates. Judging by how the girl avoided all their classmates, Madeline could easily guess what side they were leaning at.
The later words boggled her - Did the girl just ask to befriend her by implying that Madeline did not have any friend?
Clueless, Madeline did what any well-bred pureblood was taught. She smiled, polite to a tee. "Have you finished the transfiguration essay?"
At this, Orpington stood straighter, her face satisfied. Madeline kept a smile on her face as the girl started to narrate her assignment. Transformation magic theories started to fill her hearing, and though Madeline made some gestures to acknowledge what the girl was saying, she could not say that she was truly listening.
The girl was cautioned to avoid the pureblood supremacist since even before she got to Hogwarts, her mind repeated. Was this how families in Slytherins work? Madeline could not help but pity the girl. Hermione Granger had difficulties in making friends even without any restriction - She couldn't imagine being told to consider the political leanings of many families for her first try in making friends.
She paused, frowning.
Perhaps it was the Hermione Granger in her that was soft in this matter. She just didn't have it in her to refuse an earnest offer of friendship. Callous she might be, Madeline caught that Orpington did not mean anything by it. The girl was just rough around the edges - not unlike Hermione once upon a time.
Madeline still needed to read her book, though.
When Orpington finished telling her of her assignment, Madeline reciprocated by sharing some details in her assignment to the girl. But only just.
" - You see, I thought the theory lacked the application that could reflect the principles it proposed, so I added two more relevant theories and their applications with it to make it stronger. Though, it took much of my time to research them - Speaking of, I actually have another matter to research about. Do you mind if I read?"
The other girl exhaled, her shoulder loosen.
"Not at all," she replied, sounding oddly eager. Then again, being inexperienced socially, Orpington might be as relieved as her when they stopped talking.
Madeline smiled, pleased that she could finally read the book she had brought. Her thanks was the last thing uttered between them, until it was almost time for the train to arrive at Hogwarts.
Her new appearance of alliance with Orpington was marked upon during dinner, but Parkinson's clique did not dare to start anything with her. They acknowledged her and that was it, no jab nor hidden insult was thrown. Her casting back then was perfect it seemed, as her scourgify spell really did it job. She hoped the spell would last for a long time, Madeline thought amusedly. She wasn't very fond of stepping over dirt time after time.
As the day progressed, Madeline was thankful that Orpington did not get the idea of following her around just because they sat together in the train. The girl just sat beside her during meals, walked with her between classes, and occasionally read together at the dorm. Madeline could still freely do everything on her own, even though she sometimes had to make excuses on where she would go.
Orpington also did not follow her library schedule.
"There are some family friends in Ravenclaw," the girl explained once, "so my parents urged me to study with them. If I add the time I spend in the library because of them with your library schedule, I would rather just move to the library and not bother with bed. Moving to the library is not my personal preference, I must say, though it is probably yours - Pardon if I accidentally offend you, I was just trying to give you the picture."
Madeline was more amused than anything at her words. Moving to the library sounded heavenly.
The library was back at its usual state, as all the winter assignments had been collected by the professors. Madeline could easily go back to where she often sat, which was the table near the Muggle study section - only she didn't want to. Her feet brought her back to the table by one of the windows, where a pair of second years were usually sitting, such as the case for today. She cleared her throat.
"Do you mind?"
"Not at all," came the routine reply from the girl, accompanied by the boy's scowl.
She thanked them and sat, books opened.
There wasn't any particular reason for her decision to sit by them. It was just that... Well, she supposed she wanted to separate her future with the present, and seeing her former professor as a moody teenager was a great step. Not to mention that Madeline had begun to be brave enough to see Lily Evans in the eyes, even if her eyes reminded her of Harry. It was a massive progress, she proudly thought. The next step would be seeing James Potter and not freezing.
Her progress was probably aided by the fact that she could finally sleep frequently without the dreamless potion, and not getting awakened by her dreams. She didn't know if her improved occlumency barrier worked in sleep as she was still getting her memories twisted in the dreams, but Barty's concoction worked like a charm - or like a potion, she supposed. Her nightmares were not nightmares anymore, as her dreams did not agitate her. She still had some unsettling dreams, unfortunately - but it was much, much, better than sweating and waking up crying or screaming - or losing focus and having seizures, if she continued to drink the dreamless potion daily.
In summary, the threat on her health had been stopped, and while her dreams still suck, they now suck less.
.
January was over when she got the idea to make a portable muffliato charm, courtesy to Parkinson's clique who almost had the chance to eavesdrop on her conversation with Mother through the two-way mirror.
Her idea was to make the muffliato charm work like the imperturbable charm but without the physical barrier function of it. That means if she enchanted an object with this modified muffliato charm, it would make a bubble of buzzing sound around the object that made the others outside the bubble could not hear the sound from inside the bubble. The charm wouldn't need much modification and Madeline must say it was a simpler project than the necklaces, but both spells were going to be equally useful.
Her other project in potion was on hold, as the urgency to find an alteration to the dreamless potions with less side effects was defunct. However, what little research she had done turned out to still be quite useful. It was another day of Potion class when Slughorn wss practically salivating as he saw her sleeping draught.
"Oh, my! The efficiency in this little batch is remarkable! Your brilliance shines through yet again, my dear," the Professor gushed, to which she smiled bashfully.
"I couldn't have done it without your guidance, sir."
Slughorn beamed, smiling like a cat who got the canary as Madeline returned to her seat. She failed to detain the corner of her lips from lifting up.
Let it not be said that Hermione Granger did not understand the value of Slughorn's favor. During her sixth year, she had the opportunity to attend Slughorn's christmas ball and the hefty amount of ministry officials in it was just ridiculous. During her time on the run, which she spent mostly with searching for a way to destroy horcruxes and worrying over everything, she once reflected on how Slughorn managed to survive two wars while being so close to the Slytherins. The Slytherin house, after all, was the main commodity for the death eaters army. She speculated that it was due to his cunningness - the pulling and the promises of favors, the information he buried and the information gained. All of those aided him as he deflected the mortal threats that came to him one by one.
She might not plan to interfere with the current war, but it was best to have all the cards rather than having only a limited amount of it.
The bell rang in time to mark the end of the day's class, and before she knew it, Orpington was already by her side. Madeline nodded at the girl before they both walked side by side to exit the class.
Coincedently, their pacing matched another pair of students.
"Congratulations," came Lestrange's flat tone. The boy was already walking beside her when they got to the corridor. "It seems like you earned Slughorn's favourite student spot."
"How did you make the potion more potent?" Black asked, his curiosity plainly displayed. "The book didn't mention anything about it."
She looked over to the smaller boy. "I added a sophorous bean, as I read in the Book of Potions that it induces sleep better than any other ingredients. Of course I would have to neutralize the deep-sleep inducing nature it has, but adding more valerian sprigs will do it."
The three people around her raised eyebrows at this, though only Lestrange voiced his inquiry.
"Do you often experiment with the potion we study?"
"Not often."
Her curt reply earned her some pause.
She belatedly thought that she shouldn't have answered them at all. To be proficient in potion making due to the guidance of the reference books was the norm for a first year student. Experimenting with the potion was decidedly not the norm. She could see the interest radiating from both of the boys and Orpington. They were fastly approaching the Slytherin dormitory entrance and Madeline could not wait to arrive there. She hoped this walk did not turn into an interrogation session. When the entrance door was in their sight however, Black broke the silence.
"So sophorous beans can be countered with valerian sprigs?"
Her muscles went lax. At least it was about the potion and not about her.
She let her lips quirked up at his question. How long had he been mulling over that during their walk? The boy always seemed to be so invested in potion - in any subject, really. Either he was genuinely a curious person or he was ambitious - or perhaps he was both. She turned to look at Black.
"I heard you did a deep literature study into the valerian sprig's effects on human's nerves before the holiday," she started. Black's cheeks faintly reddened.
"You heard correctly…"
"Then you must know that valerian sprigs could affect neuron activity depending on how you prepare it?" At his nod, she continued without a pause. "Well, a deep sleep, which could be induced with sophorous bean, is defined as unconscious state of an individual in which -"
Madeline regaled them with the mechanics of each stage of sleep, and she made notes on how the neurons work in each of them. Then, she informed them the magical properties of both sophorous beans and valerian sprig - the part where she dissected the valerian sprig effects based on how it was prepared was a bit long, and she actually had to pause for some seconds to recall the details properly. In the middle of it, Lestrange had uttered their dormitory password and they all moved on to the common room. Madeline put her bag on the space beside her as she sat on one of the couches, her mind still busily pulling information out of her memory as she informed them why the sophorous bean could counteract the valerian sprig.
The others quietly copied her and sat.
It was in the midst of talking about the finer details of sophorous bean's acidic nature - which induced the shredded valerian sprig's numbing effect when the shredded sprig was added before the sophorous bean, and the neuron-accelerating effect when the sprig was added after the bean - that she caught Lestrange hesitantly glancing at his friend. Her eyes automatically followed it.
Black's grey eyes were still on her, his face focused as he drank the information she bestowed on them with fervor. He was the only one. On his sides, Orpington's eyes were glazed and Lestrange seemed like he was only half-listening.
Madeline wrapped it up quickly after that.
She cleared her throat, finally realizing how dry it was. " - And that is the basis of my alteration."
There was a pause, and none of them moved.
Madeline held her chin high. She would not be embarrassed for being knowledgeable. Or for educating them. She would not be embarrassed just because she forgot herself and spieled all she knew, spouting all about sleep and sprigs - Merlin, her face felt warm. To all the gods there were, please let not her face to be as red as Ginny's in her rage -
Orpington, her new friend, finally got out of her trance.
"Much thanks, Crouch," she said with a firm nod. "We certainly know more about sleep now."
"We can now rest easy knowing it," Lestrange murmured, his mouth twitched at his own words.
Madeline nodded, shutting her mouth after opening it for too long. She had slipped, she realized. That was Hermione Granger, coming out of the deepest part of herself. Madeline Crouch educated others with a brief explanation. Madeline Crouch did not go on a rant to discuss all the unnecessary details that her mind provided - except maybe for Barty. Madeline Crouch had this thing called restraint. Know-it-all Hermione Granger just had to disrupt her mask -
"I think you're brilliant."
Madeline blinked.
Black had put his elbows on his knees, his eyes keenly watching her. She mulled over the possibility of Black using legilimency to read her mind but she threw away the thought - Her occlumency had just gotten better after she got the new books.
"Your explanation was enlightening - and I had never thought to improve a potion before - Do you think we can study together, some other times?"
Her mind whirled to a stop. She stared.
No one had ever asked Hermione Granger to study together. Ever. Hermione Granger must nag, and nag, and nag, to get her best friends to study with her - even in exam preparation period. They even put effort to avoid her at those times, and she -
No one had ever asked her to study together.
There must be something burning somewhere inside her head, because her mind seemed to disconnect. Short-circuited.
Black suddenly flushed. "It's okay if you don't want to -"
"I want to," her mouth spoke before her mind.
This wasn't like her. Madeline Crouch was raised a pureblood. A well-bred pureblood of the sacred twenty-eight. She was composed. And graceful. Madeline Crouch's eloquence never escaped her.
She cleared her throat, her shoulders pulled back. "I would be delighted to study with you, Black. It has the potential to benefit each of us."
Black went back to his poised self.
"That is exactly what I thought. So…"
She nodded. "We'll compare schedules some other time. I feel rather tired right now, I'm afraid."
"Take as much time as you need," Black assured her.
She nodded.
Then he nodded.
There was a pause.
"Well - Goodnight."
She scrambled to the stairs in as much grace as she could muster, with Orpington following closely behind her in confusion.
.
"I didn't realize you're friends with Black and Lestrange," Orpington peered over from the bed where she sat.
They were separated by only the gap between their beds, in the safety of the dorm room, but she felt like Orpington was farther. Her voice sounded distant - or maybe that was her occlumency's doing?
"I wouldn't call us friends," Madeline replied eventually. "Amiable, more like."
Unfortunately, her occlumency needed to be up right now, for Hermione Granger needed to be silent. She was Madeline Crouch now, and Madeline Crouch did not get worked up just from polite offering of shared study time. She did not get worked up by being called brilliant.
She focused on her conversation partner. Orpington was thinking heavily on something. There was a slight frown between her eyebrows, and she seemed to unconsciously smoothing her robe for no purpose. There was a speck of tint there on the tip of her finger and at the top of her left ear. The one on her ears had been there since the third period, she recalled. The girl accidently touched her middle finger there during her usual gesture of putting her long straight hair to the back of her ears. She did that a lot.
Orpington fidgeted some more before asking. "Don't they share certain similarities with Parkinson and her group?"
Madeline inhaled deeply, her mind calm. She shifted her attention back to the present, eyes meeting Orpington's worried gaze.
"If they do, they're doing it with discretion. What I do not see, I do not mind."
It was Madeline Crouch's motto, because Madeline Crouch had her mission to worry about. Choosing a side openly in this bloody war would not benefit her - Who knew when she needed some slytherin associates to break into Gringotts or acquire a cursed locket? - Therefore, she would not avoid someone just because they had chosen their side - or at least appeared to be.
Orpington, however, did not have that resolution. The girl thought hard on what she said, measuring it with the caution her parents gave her with a serious face and tense shoulder.
Madeline put on an easy smirk. "Regretting your choice of friend already?"
She had said it to make the girl let loose, though she supposed a part of her wondered what Orpington would decide. The girl blinked, her furrowed eyebrows went back to its normal state. She huffed at her smirk, her back straightened and chin up.
"Nope. Not at all."
It seemed Madeline would have a friend in Slytherin, after all.
.
February 9th, 1973
Dearest granddaughter,
Do spare me your well-hidden critics. Oh, yes, I've realized now that you are not as oblivious as you act to be. Well done, my dear, you played an old lady like a fool. I thought you were a typical, innocent, preteen witch with a brilliant mind. You have proven that your caution from weeks ago was not born from naive confidence.
I am aware that I have my own shortcomings and past mistakes to blame for their actions against me. That said, your boldness astounded me. You are lucky that I like your wit and manner.
I want to express how delighted I am that you are allowing me the chance to change your mind on dark magic. Your disgrace of a father is too obtuse, and was astoundingly impressionable, back in the days. I will just explain to you my understanding of it. Do bear with me if this took pages to read, darling.
One might think the intention of harm was the key to defining dark natured magic, but isn't always so. The most basic magical theories taught us that magic became magic in the merge of a strong will and enough power - This of course also applies to dark magic. The difference, however, was how these components correlate with each other.
In typical magic, the will and the power work separately. If you lack will (or some call it intention) the magic might not happen at all, or it will happen, but not with the precision you originally willed it. This is the case when you transfigure a canary into a cup, but the cup turns out to be half canary. If you lack power, your spell will not work at all, or it will work, but only for a very brief time before the object reverts to its previous state. If your power is not controlled correctly in the spell, your magic will combust. In sum, there is no correlation between the working of will and power in typical magic. I suppose you must have already learned about this, though I am putting this here to signify the difference.
Now, in dark magic, your will and power correlates with each other. The stronger your will, the stronger the power it produces. It is why emotions have a significant role in Dark magic. When you are angry, and you want to hurt someone because of it, your will becomes stronger, and a dark-natured spell will consume it to strengthen its power. The will increases the power.
It is such an interesting field, dark magic. But commonly misunderstood. Of course, people will talk however they like, but when one was taught that Dark Magic synchronizes itself better in their body, one tends to try to understand it (if they are intelligent enough, I suppose.)
There are books that could improve your understanding of the subject. Madeline, dear, if you want it, you need only ask.
Now, onto the matter of your father.
Are you absolutely certain that we can not have his audience, just for a small talk? It is a grave matter we want to discuss, one that can not afford to wait. I would very much like to persuade him myself and get my words through his thick-skull, alas, he is still refusing to answer my letters and your Grandfather's. In fact, he is not reading it at all, as there is a new ward in your manor that prevents any letters from me or your grandfather to be sent in.
Please, dear girl, if you would be so kind as to help your grandmother. Please get him to open my letters.
Your Grandmother,
Charis Ursula Crouch
.
Madeline frankly did not have time to pick apart all that was written in Charis Crouch's latest letter. She was spread thin as it was, with her private studies in advanced-charms, occlumency, dreams interpretation, classwork, and her pursuits in training her body and magical skill. Her schedule was so full that she had to use engorgio to the schedule parchment, as her writing grew ridiculously small the more it was filled.
Her sleep was also still perturbed by inconvenient dreams. Recently, as she no longer felt fear from it, Madeline found only sorrow in her dreams of memories. She often just lay awake on her bed in the middle of the night, her tears falling silently as she stared blankly at the ceiling. It wasn't the bawling kind of crying. It was a numb kind of crying, and somehow, it felt as tiring.
She did not have time to stress herself over inbred family shenanigans.
Though, from skimming the letter, she got some points down: One, Lady Crouch finally caught up that Madeline was digging on her in dry humor whenever she talked about her estrangement from her children. Two, The lady was selling out dark magic, again, as she had done in all her letters. Three, The lady was using books as her bait (which had really tempted her - and she hadn't even fully read the second point since she just skipped it! Madeline was worried she might give in.) - And four, The lady was desperate to talk to Father.
The last part, she must admit, was a bit worrying.
The lady's concise writing reflected her desperation, and her words seemed sincere enough that Madeline got that the lady was exaggerating nothing. She really wanted to talk to her son, though the reason why the estranged mother wanted to talk to her son was unknown to Madeline. It was clear that there wasn't any love lost between them.
Madeline decided she would write a reply to Charis Crouch on the weekend, during an hour break after lunch. (Yes. Break. You read correctly. She scheduled her weekends until there was no time left, she had to squeeze in a break somewhere). Meanwhile, she would make a brief letter to Father tonight, to ask him to read Grandmother's letters - Honestly, how difficult was it to read? She got that Father had beef with his mother, but to not read her letters even when his daughter had asked him repeatedly? She wouldn't have bothered if Grandmother did not sound so desperate, but the lady did sound desperate. Madeline didn't have a choice but to comply.
These hectic days lasted for weeks. She apologetically did not deliver her words to match her schedule with Black's and study together with the boy this month, giving him an excuse that she was working on a private project. Fortunately, the mild attitude Black showed when she apologized told her that he was a considerate boy, one that easily accepted her words. Madeline could not be more grateful.
Her library table mate unsurpsingly had noticed how busy she was lately. Lily Evans initiated a conversation at their table, asking her if she was alright, or if she was having problems settling in Hogwarts. It was sweet. Hermione Granger hadn't thought to comfort first year students during her second year - though, perhaps it was probably because she was distracted by the mortal threat looming over her kind during that year - In any case, Madeline assured the kind girl of her well-being and told her that she was only eager for learning magic.
The red-headed witch beamed at that.
"I definitely could relate. Isn't the magical world so awesome? So many things to learn - "
It was awfully easy to divert her. Madeline smiled as she continued the course of the conversation in this direction - She really did not want the girl to start asking what made her so busy and tired looking (What could she answer to that, really? A first year did not have that much workload yet.) Her only obstacle was Snape, who seemed to catch on to what she was doing when she diverted his friend. The gangly boy luckily stayed silent.
Came March, Madeline started to drink a rejuvenation potion once every few days.
In this brief period of time, Madeline rejoiced. It was a bliss. A wonderful experience. A perfectly lovely week. She felt, for the lack of better word, rejuvenated. She wouldn't have objected to drinking it for the rest of the school year, to be honest.
Unfortunately - or perhaps fortunately for her liver - someone stopped her.
"Why didn't you ever say anything?" Bethany asked, her frustration was as clear as a summer day. On her side, Amanda was fiercely holding her rejuvenation potion hostage.
She tried not to squirm. The Hufflepuff duo had caught her drinking it in a hidden alcove on the way to the greenhouse after breakfast last Wednesday, and it seemed like they were not letting it down. They literally hunted her down, spying on her for days until they caught her again today, in the corridor near the hospital wing.
Madeline was forced to make an excuse, and luckily, she had plenty of problems to choose from. She had entertained them with her nightmare-turned-dreams problem, but it seemed like it only made them dig more into it. A sigh escaped her.
"I suppose I don't want to make a fuss over it…"
"We could have helped," Amanda said, exasperated. "We thought, since you seem to be going to classes with Orpington, that you are just busy with your new friend. Now it turns out you were having sleeping problems all this time?"
Suddenly, Bethany gasped.
"Dear Lord, we assumed you replaced us but it turns out you needed a friend all this time? Helga, we're bad friends!"
Amanda, with her face paling, was utterly horrified.
Madeline just wanted her potion.
"Helga, we're bad friends!" repeated Amanda, and Madeline was still completely clueless - Was this a custom in Hufflepuff? To cry out their founder's name and confess their sins?
"You might still help," she tried consoling them. "The dreams haven't stopped, even if they become less agitating…"
They quickly sobered at this.
As they thought hard on what she said while appearing no longer on the brink of despair, Madeline noted this useful fact: Hufflepuffs would go immediately from descending into hysterics to hyperfocus-mode to help a friend. What a nice bunch.
Amanda was the one to break the silence.
"Oh! I think I've heard about a book about dreams. Written by some renowned psychologist - Wait, do wizards have psychologists?" She turned to Bethany, who nodded.
"We call them mind healers."
Amanda nodded, saving the new information and gave her attention back to Madeline. "Psychologists study the human's mind. I don't know much about it, truthfully. But there's a massive emergence in psychology due to the Freud man and World War two, or so the news said. Even my parents read one or two books on it. They liked reading about social psychology, but the sub-field you're searching for is something about studying dreams... ugh. I forgot the name. Anyway, the book I mentioned is written by Carl Jung. He was as famous as Freud, and his last book was a massive hit." She paused, her lips thinned.
"I, unfortunately, haven't read it."
The girl looked so disappointed in herself that Madeline had to cut her there. "You're already a great help. I'm really grateful for it."
Honestly, the Hermione Granger in her was disappointed in herself that she hadn't tried to find a muggle solution for her problem. Though, perhaps it was warranted. Her foray into the psychology field was unfortunately started by trying to read Freud's theories of development during fourth year - she quickly put the book down after the first few chapters and never touched it again. She hoped this Carl Jung man's theories would be different from whatever Freud was spouting.
(Really, who would have wanted to fuck Father? No offense to Mother, of course.)
"How will you get the book?" Bethany asked, her tone made no room for arguments. It seemed like Madeline would really have to read this book to ease her friends. On her side, Amanda solemnly gestured to her chest.
"I could try asking my parents?"
Madeline, of course, shook her head vehemently at her friend.
"Please don't trouble yourself."
"It's not a problem at all!"
"I insisted," she stressed. "You've been a great help already with your idea. Besides, I have my own ways of acquiring books."
At this, Amanda smiled. "Now, that i don't doubt." Bethany nodded for good measure.
Madeline really dodged a hex there. Hufflepuffs were tenacious people, and she supposed one could see them as a dog with a bone between its jaws - They wouldn't let it go. Not when someone was in a risk of being, Helga forbid, unhappy. If Madeline had made one wrong word that could indicate that her problems were more than her dreams, they would have sucked the bone dry, and by bone, she meant her secrets.
She was lucky to have them.
Madeline, of course, followed through her words to search for the book. Come Hogsmeade weekend, she had prepared an aging potion to disguise herself and sneak outside the castle. She downed it in one gulp inside the room of requirement, immediately after she finished brewing it.
Drinking the aging potion felt like drinking polyjuice potion. Not because of the potion's taste, mind you - polyjuice's taste was eleven times worse. No, what she meant was the effect. She felt like she was wearing another person's skin. Ha.
Madeline let her curly hair loose. She conjured a floral dress and transfigured her mary-janes into furry boots. Adding a magic touch here and there, Madeline Crouch was now a 17 years old girl with a pretty little dress, cool boots, and full make up.
No one would recognize her.
She dashed out of the room, her wand carefully tucked in her holster. As usual, the one-eyed witch passage was her choice. It led to the cellar of honeydukes, a place she knew would be cramped by people therefore no one would notice one unassuming witch appearing in the store without going through the front door. The passage could only be accessed from the third floor, so Madeline was making a beeline towards the grand stairs.
Except someone was in her path.
Two someone.
"Are you sure she was heading this way?" She saw Lestrange hunching down across the corridor, as if hiding. Spying.
Black was there, leading the path as he looked around. "I am. I'm not mistaken."
"That depends on whether Crouch is in this corridor, don't you think?"
Madeline gulped. This was fine. They would not recognize her. She was 17, not 12 - Oh, how slow! She could just cast a disillusionment charm! Yes, she would reach to her wand holster and -
Black's eyes met hers.
Fuck.