Constructing a gift equivalent to Barty's previous present for her was no small feat. Madeline had to keep in mind all of Barty's interests and needs, and she had to consider his wishes as well. In her previous life, Hermione Granger had never put much of her thought on gift giving. A quidditch equipment had been suffice for Harry and Ron's birthday each year, despite her clear disapproval of their priority in Quidditch over their studies. In fact, she gave all of her acquaintances a routine gift each year, with Neville and his books on plants, Ginny and muggle make up, and other less familiar acquaintances with mundane things such as quills and sweets.
However, the pureblood custom had made it impossible for her to not think heavily on gifts. Gifts could be seen as a sign of respect, and to a close ally, gifts were a gesture of how much the gifter valued the recipient. Mother and Father had received many gifts along the years, making Madeline aware of the intricacies of her father's long standing alliance with a couple of pureblood houses, and Mother's more interpersonal relationship with the other small houses. Madeline had never been introduced formally in a social function, therefore had never been sent any presents. Barty was a different case, as he was introduced to the Rosiers. He had received a present each from Lady Rosier and Evan, with Evan's present more personalized than his mother's sign of appreciation for befriending the heir of their house.
Prior to last year, Madeline and Barty had only gifted each other with books. It was their tradition, and the fact that they could borrow each other's books was just another benefit they happily enjoy from their arrangement. Madeline was of course aware that her brother did not expect her to return his thoughtful gesture on her previous birthday, as it was only done out of his concern for her ongoing sleeping issue. Yet, she still felt the need to reciprocate. The feeling might as well come from Madeline Crouch's sense of propriety rather than Hermione Granger's sense of obligation for owing her brother.
That said, she had less than six weeks to prepare the gift and her mind still had not procured any idea when April came.
Another thing that settled on her mind was the current week's letter from her grandmother. In Madeline's last letter, she had expressed grievance over being used as a medium for their personal disagreement. However, Madeline also stated that as long as they could behave accordingly as an adult, she was willing to deliver all the matters that need to reach Father's ears personally in her letters, as she knew that Father would read her letter, opposed to how he treated a letter from Grandmother.
Grandmother had apologized, and then proceeded on talking of non-sense.
'I apologize for involving you in our matter,' the lady had written. 'You are right, we ought to not have you witness our dispute, something you know nothing of. I appreciate your offer, but I am afraid that the matter I would like to discuss with your father is not something a child should hear. I shall not trouble you with the matter just to have you deliver it to your Father. You have been such a darling for entertaining your grandmother, it is more than enough for me.'
The lady then swiftly changed the subject of her letter, diverting it to Barty's upcoming birthday and Madeline's expressed concern for not finding (or making) an appropriate gift.
It was infuriating.
Madeline had spent months to make Father respond to Grandmother's letters in Grandmother's request and when her effort turned out to be a failure, Madeline assumed that they would try another way, which was for Madeline to forward the supposed grave matter to her father. Yet, the Lady had insisted on doing it herself for months and she now chose to … give up. Just like that.
Madeline had speculated that there was no grave matter to begin with. Maybe the Lady just wanted to reconnect with her son, no matter how unlikely it sounded from the way the Lady talked about Barty Crouch Sr. It would certainly explain why the Lady refused to have Madeline deliver the supposed grave matter to her father.
Family matters aside, Madeline was surprisingly tranquil for the time being. Her potion study session with Black proved to be an entertainment, and she grew to be fond of it even if it did not benefit her study. Two weeks in, and Madeline realised something that not even Hermione Granger realised: She adored intelligent people, and she adored intelligent people with a mind on academic pursuit even more.
It was always about being right for Hermione Granger. Hermione had relished every time her words and deduction turned out right, and in her younger days, she often fumed when others challenged her views. It was immature to think that one was always right, she realised now. Her revelation to this had perhaps lingered in the back of her mind during her run, though it was not until the event that brought her back in time that she consciously realised how utterly arrogant she had been.
With Black, however, she found herself waiting for him to counter her words with his clumsy display of knowledge.
Being more experienced than her partner, Madeline often led their discussion, and it often appeared as if she was tutoring Black rather than studying together with the boy. It was to be expected, Madeline could recite all the potion books from first year to the last by heart, and she had read on advanced potion books in her solitude during her early years. This glaring contrast did not go unnoticed by both sides, and it led to Black deliberately showing off what little he had known about obscure improvements from various renown potioneers he came across in his reading. With it, he tried to prove his point and countered what she had said upon almost everything.
It amused Madeline as all the arguments the boy used had been considered by her, and she figured the counter to his counter in a blink of her eyes.
The old Hermione would have plainly denied all Black's input in a tone which put her in the high right, and put Black in a position of a fool for not knowing what she knew. Madeline had long passed that stage. She listened attentively to his counter, taking a note on his point of view in the particular subject, and then nudged him in just the right direction so that he could realize the flaw in his counter.
Such as the case for today.
"What if the step that follows the stir is adding a volatile ingredient - like an erumpent horn?" Black questioned, eyes challenging. They were talking about the sneeze draught, and she had just shared a renowned potioneer's well-accepted theory on residual effect. The significance of this theory was that a potioneer was encouraged to add a half counter stir following the supposed clockwise stir after adding a powdered ingredient in order to distribute the powdered ingredient better in the brew.
"Doesn't it need the brew to be stable for it not to react badly?" Black went on. "A counter clock half stir can disturb the flow of the brew and it certainly would trigger the explosive nature of the horn."
Madeline did not bat a single eye lash as she hummed.
"You have raised a good point. The distinction between a clockwise stir's use and a counter clock stir's use was proposed by Verghaun in the late 1600s, yes?"
Regulus nodded, though he kept his silence to let her continue. He had learned that she often had a lot to say, and it was best to let her complete what she had to say or else he would appear foolish for proving a point that the girl had originally wanted to support had he not interrupted her. It had happened before, after all.
She did continue, her tone neutral as she voiced her thoughts.
"Verghaun proposed that the counter clock disrupt the flow of the brew, though what is the implication that comes with a disruption of a brew's flow?"
"Scattered particles," he replied easily, which made him frown. It did indeed align with what the potioneer who proposed the residual effect theory had stated.
He pondered this. Regulus had hastily taken 'flow disruption' as a possible factor for a destabilized brew. A destabilized brew, however, was caused by colliding traits of ingredients, or the imperfect blend of the ingredients.
Regulus widened his eyes. He missed the entire point of the research, didn't he? Powdered ingredients often left a residue on the bottom of the caudron, particularly in the center part of the bottom. That was what the potioneer proposed according to Crouch's explanation. The existence of residue marked an imperfect blend, which was why the potioneer suggested adding a half counter-clock stir to disrupt the flow and scatter the particles of a powdered ingredient.
His musing was interrupted by Crouch, who was thinking deeply and voiced her dilemma.
"Scattered particles indeed could lead to a destabilized brew..."
Regulus shook his head. "It could, but I rescind my words. I think what the potioneer wanted to say is that - "
He repeated his own conclusion to Madeline, and she nodded in full agreement while internally feeling proud for the boy. His strife to appear knowledgeable was adorable, but his willingness to change his mind and his earnest effort to build his knowledge was admirable. Madeline knew what young Hermione would have done in his position. She would have stood her ground, only realising her blunder in the middle of her sleep or in the shower, then proceeded to begrudgingly admit that she was wrong in a couple of days after reading the source so that she may blame the fact that she had not read the study herself for her blunder.
Black did not try to give her an excuse for his blunder. He moved past it with grace, re-stating his position in the matter while explaining his previous thought process and its flaws.
It boggled her that an eleven years old boy could be this mature. Even Barty would not behave as mature as Black in this case. Then again, Barty would never hastily propose an uninformed flaw in a well-supported theory without at least reading the research. His folly lies elsewhere.
At the end of their Wednesday session of April's second week, Black expressed his wish to cancel their Saturday session in favor of watching the Quidditch game between their house and the Ravenclaws. He also offered to escort her to the game, to which Madeline politely refused, exclaiming in a joking manner how she was not as thick as to deprive him of his fellow quidditch enthusiasts just to have him as an escort.
Having one of her Saturday slots free, Madeline chose to go to the library to find inspiration for Barty's birthday. She faithfully sat at her usual table after she greeted Lily Evans and the scowling Severus Snape politely. She then proceeded to immerse herself in her notes.
Madeline had half her mind to just buy Barty another book. She was truly clueless on what to give to Barty. As she knew that Barty loves knowledge and magic, a book sounded to be the most appropriate gift.
- Yet it was not as thoughtful as his gift.
Her mind went back in circles.
A sound of cleared throat then interrupted her thoughts. Madeline took her eyes away from her notes, meeting a pair of startling green eyes in the result. Lily Evans smiled at her, fingers fidgeting over her book.
"Hi? I'm sorry for disturbing you, I just wanted to ask whether you're already feeling better?"
Madeline blinked, the memory of their last interaction trickled into her mind. It was well over a month ago. Had she been wanting to ask her that question all this time? Madeline observed the awkward girl. Was that why the girl was always restless when Madeline came to sit at their table recently? She let a polite smile bloomed in her face.
"I am. Thank you for asking."
The red haired girl nodded, returning her smile with a shy smile on her own. "That's good to hear."
Madeline maintained her smile as she gave the girl one last nod before returning to her notes. Her mind let itself preoccupied with Barty's gift once more, her eyes reading her list of things that Barty had said to want over the years, from brooms to his own dragon.
Dragon eggs, unfortunately, were a non-tradable commodity. Father would raise a fit if they were caught.
Moments passed, and Madeline was very conscious of a pair of eyes that were quietly observing her. A glance at her side told her that Lily Evans was still staring. Curious.
She looked back at the girl.
"Yes? Do you wish to address other concerns?"
Evans blushed. "Oh, sorry. I was - I suppose I was hoping that we would talk more? We've been sitting at this table together for months, after all."
Ah.
Madeline took another glance, this time to the boy beside the girl. She would have gladly introduced herself and started to make small talk, but a proper pureblood would wait to be introduced to converse when there was a mutual acquaintance present.
Actually, she would not bother at all with this if she could be sure of Severus Snape's future true allegiance. Presenting herself as a stuck up pureblood seemed to be a safer route when dealing with Slytherins.
Sensing her silent request, the boy pursed his lips before relented. "Lily, this is Madeline Crouch. Crouch, i introduce you to Lily Evans."
Evans looked confused for a second, a questioning glance briefly thrown at her friend.
Madeline spoke first. "A pleasure to finally have your acquaintance, Evans."
Now the girl seemed to really have no clue on what was going on. For her, they just had a normal conversation and the girl seemed to be friendly. She was friendly when Lily talked about the magical world last month, so why the sudden formality? Not to mention that Severus turned out to have known the girl all along. In the end, Lily just smiled awkwardly.
"Um, just Lily, please?"
At her apparent hesitation, Madeline gave out an easy smile, aiming to ease the girl.
"Lily. Then, you may call me Madeline."
Lily beamed, completely missing the way Severus' eyebrows shot up at Madeline's words.
"Are you working on charms?" Lily asked, eager to start a conversation. "I recognize some of the books you have there."
From that, their conversation grew. Charm was apparently Lily's favourite subject and they talked for an hour just to discuss the Spell Book. That Saturday, Madeline concluded, was productive, though Hermione had to hold down her grimace when Lily spoke of her own sibling after Madeline confided that she had been looking for a gift idea for her brother's birthday. She really did not need to know about Petunia Evan's current obsession with boys and make up.
You see, the conversation with Lily had also brought another light in her gift plan for Barty. It was stupidly simple that Madeline nearly smacked herself as she realised the truth in the red haired girl's words.
One word: Fun.
Lily had said that gift giving was supposed to be fun. It was spoken out of her concern over Madeline's apparent stress over the whole birthday gift matter, but Madeline had caught it differently. Barty had enough books in the world to learn, and he had time to learn more on magic. What he always sought was fun.
Madeline needed to make something fun.
She must admit that she did not know much about fun. At first, it made her wince at the idea of creating fun. Even her previous game with Barty was all about learning, though she learned to include physical activity in all her games to ensure Barty's interest in the game. This time, her gift would be pure fun and not a study means.
Luckily, she had a pair of twins from her past life to take inspiration from.
.
Barty's gift was finally ready by the end of April. Madeline came to the library on a Wednesday to thank Lily for her aid, and they ended up studying together until dinner. Lily was sweet and fun, and Hermione realised that Harry had gotten his clueless and humble attitude from the girl. Madeline let herself breathe easier around the girl.
It was, apparently, the wrong thing to do.
Just as Lily rose from her seat after she stated she was hungry, Severus Snape, who was quietly observing their interaction for the whole evening, shook his head to her silent invitation to walk to the great hall with her.
"I'll catch up with you," the sullen boy said, his tone clipped.
"Okay?"
Lily glanced hesitantly between Madeline and Severus, before convincing herself that it was probably a house matter they wanted to discuss. She left with an unburdened smile, her steps light.
Her best friend was her entire opposite.
"What games are you playing?" Snape questioned once Lily was out of their range. He was clearly demanding an explanation. An explanation which Madeline did not have as she did not know where he was coming from.
She arched an eyebrow. "Pardon?"
"Why are you talking to her?" The boy hissed. "You know what she is."
Madeline tilted her head, assessing the boy. His wariness was granted, but why would he openly show her his hostility? She kept her tone light as she entertained him. "Enlighten me, then. What exactly is Lily Evans?"
"She's a mudblood," the boy sneered, his bitterness towards the word fully displayed, "as your kind likes to call her."
Silence followed his words.
Madeline kept her breath even, her hands slowly scrolling all her parchments she brought to the library. She had to take her time to comprehend all the implications in that one damning sentence. Snape was visibly disgusted by the slur, and his resentment as he spat the word 'your kind' indicated that he did not side with the purebloods. Yet, he still spoke of the word. His mouth had uttered the slur that degraded his best friend's mere existence. Godric, he even used the word to describe his best friend, even if it was spoken with an underlying disagreement.
Underlying disagreement, she thought, and resigned acceptance.
What did this say about Severus Snape?
Madeline very much wanted to think clearly on this matter. Her emotion, however, urged her to occlude as letting it run amok would be detrimental to her carefully painted profile she presented to the boy.
"Being civil with her is a must," Madeline divulged eventually, her table already clear from her things, "as she is my tablemate, here in the library. I do not concern myself much with blood politics."
The boy sneered, "You're the sacred 28, of course you care."
Madeline presented to him a polite smile, conceding to his point with a light nod. "Of course, but only to the extent of not marrying anyone other than purebloods. For example, I wouldn't marry you."
Snape went red.
She had spoken the words without missing a beat, as it was not intended to be a deliberate insult - If it was, Madeline would have paused and made a gesture of assessing Snape's general appearance before delivering the last sentence - No, Madeline had said it with absolute honesty, even though she certainly knew the implication of her words.
It looked like that Snape did too.
For him, she had said it as an undeniable fact that she would never have consider him of worthy of her, and in his opinion, that was far more insulting. Snape clearly had a retort in mind, and he would have thrown it in the air had he not been interrupted.
"Crouch?"
Madeline swiftly turned to the source, finding Black and Lestrange with their respective book in their hand. She blinked, wondering why they were there. Her session with Black would not be for another hour, after all. Madeline pushed her confusion aside though, as she gratefully took the out their presence provided. She rose from her seat, a neutral smile still adorned her face as she turned to look at the enraged boy once more.
"Well, my escorts have arrived. Good day."
She left the table without giving the other boy a chance to reply. His death glare was already self-explanatory. Madeline concluded that she had nothing more to gain from further interaction with the boy that evening except for increasing the hostility between them.
Lestrange snorted when she approached them, his eyes danced in amusement, while Black was harder to read.
"You got him good," Lestrange said after they were in a considerable distance from Snape. Madeline, again, was not surprised that they had overheard her conversation with Snape. Slytherins, she noted, were partial to the habit of eavesdropping. "That Snape really needs to up his game if he wants to survive in our house."
"You can be devastating when you want to be, don't you?" Black murmured quietly, his tone pondering. He was clearly speaking to her, though his eyes were locked on the direction they were walking to.
She did not know how to respond to that. As they were quickly approaching the Library exit, Madeline quite abruptly changed the subject.
"Where are we heading, exactly? I am thinking of going to the dungeon. You really are not obligated to escort me there. I was only saying it to leave the table."
At this, Black turned to meet her eyes. "We really don't mind escorting you. Besides, Snape is known for retaliating in corridor fights. It is best if you are not alone for the time being."
Madeline allowed a wry smile to grace her face. She would just turn herself into a ferret if she ever lost a fight against a thirteen years old child. Never mind that the child was her future professor.
She frowned at the reminder who she had just antagonized, even if it wasn't her intention to do so. Severus Snape was a formidable ally to have in the future. An excellent spy, as until their last breath, both side's leaders were convinced that they had him on their side. Madeline's thought returned to that first sentence that had ignited her ire in the first place. The boy was already hard to read at this age.
He resented blood politics, yet accepted it. It seemed like that to her.
His casual throw of slur reminded her of... well, of everyone in her house except for a very few people.
They were closely approaching the dungeon when Madeline decided to pull herself out of her thoughts.
"Do you mind sharing your thoughts on him?" She asked, fully trusting both boys to know who she had referred to with her question.
Both boys exchanged a look, before Black answered with ease, head already facing the front again.
"He's isolating himself from everyone by befriending the Gryffindor girl. The gryffindors saw him as a threat to their housemate and an easy target."
"Meanwhile," Lestrange said, continuing his friend's explanation, "the Slytherins can't take him seriously. There is nothing to gain in befriending him except for bad reputation and enemies."
Madeline had gathered as much. By 'bad reputation', they probably meant that Snape was known for associating himself with a muggleborn. However, there were still some things left unexplained in their answer.
"One of my friends is a muggleborn," she lightly reminded them.
Black very briefly glanced at her, a subtle sign of hesitation if Madeline read the boy correctly, before nodding decisively.
"Yes, but you are not making enemies."
She lifted an eyebrow. "Parkinson would beg to differ."
At this, Lestrange smirked, turning to her.
"Are you honestly saying that you consider Parkinson as your enemy?"
The clear mock in his tone implied how utterly ridiculous the rhetoric sounded to him. There was truth in his complete faith in her perception of Parkinson, she would never considered the petty girl as her enemy. But, she also knew that one was capable of becoming an enemy just with one side declaring itself to be. Just like how Voldemort deemed Harry as his enemy one-sidedly that Hallowen night, Parkinson could very well declare herself as Madeline's enemy.
Voldemort had continued to be a bleeding thorn in Harry's life for years. No matter what Harry did, Voldemort would linger in his shadow, his past, his very fate. His schooling was affected by Voldemort from the very beginning. His family has been affected by Voldemort since his infancy. And his future -
Madeline closed her eyes and breathed.
She resumed her thought. It was unfair of her to compare a measly preteen girl to Voldemort, but it was an excellent example to make the case's difference glaringly clear. Compared to Voldemort, a man of standing and enough power to overthrow a whooping country, Parkinson would merely be a minor inconvenience for Madeline.
The difference between Harry's situation and Madeline's was that Harry's enemy was superior in power. Voldemort had more power to influence Harry's life than Harry had to influence Voldemort's.
In her case, there was no glaring contrast of power.
"It's because I'm a pureblood, isn't it?" She pondered out loud, ignoring the subtle questioning glance from both boys.
Madeline let out a tired chuckle. "If I were a halfblood like Snape, I would have to befriend only the purebloods to elevate my status. And no one would have gained anything from befriending me..."
If she were a halfblood, she would not stood a chance to challenge Parkinson in their eyes, as Parkinson would have more sway, more power, as a Pureblood. Parkinson could declare herself as her enemy and Madeline would have to act accordingly to her threats, as Parkinson would be capable of backing it up, and Madeline would have no one to support her.
And if Madeline were a muggleborn, her existence would not even be acknowledged or considered at all.
Madeline gave her thanks to both boys when they finally arrived at the Slytherin entrance. Their troubled expression was hidden but it was there, and she wondered if they would be more cautious in befriending her. She had, after all, expressed empathy towards the lower birth. Madeline couldn't care less though. The memory of her previous interaction with Snape reminded her of how callous she had been to the people in difficult positions.
Sometimes, as Madeline basked in all the advantages of a pureblood born girl, she forgot how cruel the blood politics was.
.
Madeline paid only the minimum amount of attention towards charm class. Even with a different set of books, there was nothing particularly distinctive between the current lesson and the one Hermione Granger had received in the future. Some of the supporting theories differed, but the list of spells remained unchanged except for its order.
The professor also remained unchanged. Currently, Flitwick was considered new to the Hogwarts staff, and his passion for teaching charm was taken as a sign of his new status. They were in for a surprise. Flitwick would remain passionate in his teaching for the next decades, and Madeline secretly admired the man for maintaining his passion for three decades. After all, it was a difficult thing to love something all the same over the years as time wears you out.
When Flitwick called for them to practice the spell they had just learned, Madeline was the first to succeed. Her knockback jinx had thrown Orpington and left her fall in a sitting position. In other words, she fell on her butt. Orpington needed some assists before finally managing to cast a decent knockback jinx, and after they finished, Flitwick allowed them to start on their assignment for next week.
That assignment was also mind numbingly dull for Madeline. She chose to entertain herself by looking around the classroom to observe her classmates.
Not many had succeeded in a passable manner that Flitwick expected from them. She could hear Warrington pronounce the incantation as 'Flippin-doe' rather than Flipendo and someone would probably get singed if they got in Wilkin's range. Her eyes moved to the other side where the girls had more success than those boys.
Except for one.
Before she knew it, Madeline moved.
Madeline was aware of what caused her to stand and approach the struggling girl. Her last conversation with Snape had weighted her so much that it manifested in her dream last night. The dream was odd, and upon her introspection in her dream journal, she had an inkling of what was bothering her so heavily.
Madeline Crouch had lacked something that Hermione Granger had in abundance: Empathy and compassion.
"Practice more on your wand movement," she said to Dowson just as she arrived at her side.
It was her first step to fix her mistakes. Having a mask for Madeline Crouch was all well and good, but she should have never betrayed the Hermione Granger in her.
Dowson eyed her in suspicion, face settled in a scowl. "I am practicing it."
"Try using the wand lighting charm," Madeline suggested, her tone mild, "and stand in front of a mirror while practicing it. It will help you see the precise movement of your wand."
She lifted her wand and cast a lumos to demonstrate her suggestion. She turned to face the girl, giving her a nice view of her wand end so that the girl may observe her wand movement for the knock-back jinx.
"Can you see the wand movement clearly?"
Dowson met her eyes, her suspicion visibly lessened. The girl made a small nod, which Madeline returned.
"Try it," She said, before going back to her seat without sparing another glance to the girl.
Madeline could sense Dowson's confusion as the girl eyed her from time to time, though Madeline ignored it. She wasn't going to just forget how awful the girl was, but she now kept it in her mind that just like Snape, Dowson was in a difficult situation. Being a halfblood in Slytherin left them very few choices, and while siding with the pureblood supremacist was not the right thing to do, Madeline must admit that it was the easiest thing to do for an eleven years old child. Besides, no Slytherins would bother with doing the 'right' thing. It was all about convenience for them.
Mother had said that a little kindness goes along the way. Perhaps in time, if Madeline gave them a chance, they would realize that they have more options.
.
"So you're going to befriend this Dowson person?"
Barty was incredulous, his disbelief easily spotted after hearing her musing on the halfblood situation. The week was closing in and Madeline had spent the night in Barty's company through the two way mirror, sharing stories on her daily life at Hogwarts. She shrugged at his question.
"Why would i? No, I will just… try to remind myself to be nicer, I suppose."
Barty eyed her in puzzlement.
"To that Dowson girl and Snape boy."
"Yes."
Barty furrowed his brows, not comprehending her logic. Madeline of course had left the bits on Hermione Granger's traits, and instead laid her reasoning solely on Mother's teaching. Barty did not understand why she chose to do it. It was bothersome. After all, what Lestrange said from Madeline's story was true, there was nothing to gain from befriending them. Why should they be kind and, as Maddy had said, give them more options?
He shook his head. "I sometimes wonder why you were sorted into Slytherin. You're such a Hufflepuff."
Madeline raised an eyebrow. He had said it like it was bad being a Hufflepuff.
The first week of May had begun in another peculiarity from Charis Crouch: The lady did not send Madeline any letters.
Madeline must admit that she felt a bit hurt. She thought the Lady had grown to genuinely like her, as Madeline had. It turned out she was mistaken, as there was still no letter from the lady when the week ended. A thought then entered her mind: Maybe Madeline had outlived her use for the Lady. After all, Charis Crouch had been urging Madeline to connect the Lady with her son and she had failed to do so. The whole correspondence was probably faux.
She kept these thoughts at the back of her mind.
Barty had sent her a letter after his birthday, telling her how much he loved her present. She had made a portable bouncy cloud for him, inspired by the twins's portable swamp and an over-powered spongify spell that she witnessed a couple of months ago. The cloud could act as a portable bed, as Barty often falls asleep everywhere, but it could also act like a trampoline, growing as big as their garden at the Manor to cover the soil entirely.
A bouncy cloud for him to jump around, and a personal cloud for him to sleep on.
Barty did not bother to cover his admiration over the brilliance of her gift. The sheer joy that radiated from the letter had made Madeline lose all her inhibition. She smiled through the morning with unrestrained happiness, polite reservation be damned. Her classmates stared at her transparent delight in bewilderment, not that Madeline noticed it. Her head was still high up in the clouds.
Clouds. Ha.
"Did something good happen, Crouch?" Lestrange asked at lunch, voicing the general consensus of that day.
Madeline beamed at the boy in front of her. "I've made someone happy, and their happiness made me happy in return. That's all."
She went back to her meal, not even noticing the blush that grew on the boy beside Lestrange.
Her gift was an absolute success. Barty gushed over it during their Friday talk, and he told her that he had showed it off to Evan. To his greatest delight, Evan finally admitted that Madeline was ultimately smarter than Dumbledore for inventing the bouncy clouds.
"I knew that it was just a matter of time," Barty huffed, his chest puffed.
Madeline fondly grinned at her brother, the high of her joy letting his exaggerated compliment on her slide.
"So? Have you gotten into trouble with the clouds?" She asked, because of course she knew that Barty would find himself in trouble. He was too mischievous to not to.
Barty smirked.
"We used the cloud in the garden, and guess what? Evan, that idiot, accepted my dare to practice the Wronski Feint on the cloud. It's a dangerous seeker tactic, you see. Your cloud saved him of course, but we were lucky that none of our parents saw it. Evan said that it was awesome. He bounced so high that - "
Playful teasing and laughter filled the night, and Madeline's good mood stayed with her for days. Her days had never been so light.
Contrary to her assumption, Black and Lestrange did not avoid her for showing empathy towards Snape and Dowson. Black also continued to be a delight in their study session. Bethany and Amanda now occupied a couple of her weekday slots and her Sunday as they needed tutoring for the end year exam, allowing Madeline to enjoy their company more. The incident with Snape did not hinder her friendship with Lily. Orpington grew more open with her, and the hostility she got from Dowson had lessened.
Her Hogwarts life was thriving.
That was until the third week of May, when a scroll was dropped in front of her during breakfast.
A scroll with a black ribbon tying it close.