There was no natural light in the dining room of number 12 Grimmauld Place. In its place was the dim warm light of the antique gilded chandelier that hung above the center of the room, looming over their head in all its glorious detailed finery. If it weren't for the fact that the meals in front of him were equal to an extravagant breakfast, Barty would certainly have a harder time to determine the time of the day.
The meal time itself was no less stiffening than their dinner, no thanks to the elder Black pair whose rigid postures sat a few seats away from him, with their hard features stuck morosely impassive. Gulping down the last bite of his meal, Barty couldn't help but feel relieved on the knowledge that today would be the last day of his stay in the Black's residence. No offense to Regulus, but his parents were not exactly the most pleasant people to have around.
He reached for his glass quietly as he looked around the room. Each of the gleaming china displayed in the cupboard on the left side of the room was adorned with the Black family crest, a detail he missed during last night's dinner. The walls around them were drab, dark colors blending with all manners of shadows in the room. The table itself was eerily quiet. Not even the silverware of the eating utensils interrupt it, a testament of etiquette perfection from each of the meal attenders.
He eyed his friend on his right side. Regulus was also finished with his meal.
"We'll be off then, Father, Mother," Regulus said after he took his own drink, the plate in front of him lay empty. "We plan to use the library for today."
Orion Black nodded without as much as lifting his gaze from his plate. "Make sure you inform our guests of our books' nature."
"Of course."
"Thank you for the meal, Lord Black, Lady Black," Barty said politely, his manner impeccable as he rose from his seat, following the example of Rabastan and Regulus beside him.
Both of the elder Blacks gave them a nod of acknowledgement but nothing else.
They were even worse than Father, Barty thought again in pity.
The three of them left the table quietly.
Regulus led them upstairs and straight to the library, a cold creepy room with high ceiling and towering cupboards full of musty books. Again, Barty noticed that no sunlight was allowed to travel into the room, instead the room relied on dim lighting to help the occupant of the room read. It was truly no wonder that the Blacks were so pale in complexion.
In each aisle, Regulus guided them and informed them of the subject filling it. Many aisles, it turned out, were dedicated to curses. Barty inspected the room appreciatively. The library was perhaps smaller than grandmother's but the book collections were no less impressive. He recognized a couple author names that grandmother's books cited. Naturally, Barty was drawn to them. Patience was never one of Barty's virtues, which was why catching another interesting name in one of the books was enough to cost him his inhibition. His hand reached for the intriguing book.
"Don't touch that," a voice broke the trance.
His hand stopped in its motion.
Regulus had suddenly appeared beside him and mildly pushed his arm down, "or do you want to lose an arm?"
Barty glanced at the boy questioningly for a brief moment before returning his attention back to the book. Agonizing Curses of the 12th Century sure looked threatening, but what kind of author put curses on his own book? He asked this much to the older boy, earning a wry smile.
"I don't presume to know the mind of a dark magic practitioner, but it was likely some kind of a twisted test for his audience. A test in which one of my grandfather's guests failed, back in the 20s."
Barty pursed his lips. "Should've put a warning then."
"Then how would the test serve?"
There was not an ounce of pity in his tone, only amusement.
Regulus Black was one confusing chap, Barty thought.
He turned his eyes at Rabastan, finding the other boy looked unperturbed by Regulus' words. Barty directed his attention to Regulus again, "if it's a test, then why did you stop me from touching it?"
The other boy shrugged. "You would've needed two days to re-attach the arm."
Barty eyed Regulus hesitantly.
"Ah, yes... I would have overstayed my welcome by then."
"That, and your sister would be vexed with me."
Was Black saying this for real? His widened eyes found their way back to Rabastan, his perplexion clear in expressing his question. The other boy only smirked.
"He's joking. Best get used to his humor."
An amused smile had broken out in Regulus' visage by then, pushing Barty to glare at the older boy. He couldn't believe he was fooled by someone who couldn't even hide his crush.
"If you were listening, Barty," Regulus continued with his tour, feet moving towards another aisle with Rabastan on his tail. Barty begrudgingly followed them, "you would have heard me mentioning that this whole aisle is filled with cursed books. I was warning you to avoid this aisle. Now, this next aisle is dedicated to transfiguration books. You can tell by the chaotic arrangement of the books that my brother enjoys this particular subject more than he does the others. I am ever so thankful that it stands in the opposite direction of the potion section."
The tour ended after Regulus was finished covering the last of the aisle, which was the untouched section of the divining art. The three of them then separated to read their own choice of books in silence, Rabastan with his ancient runes books, Regulus with his potion books, and Barty with his magical theory books.
Their silence only lasted for an hour.
"I'm just saying that non-verbal casting is entirely within our reach after we have a good understanding of the spell," Barty stated passionately, standing his ground against two doubtful looks that were thrown to him.
Honestly, you would have thought they would have it easier to believe him after they saw him capable of wandless magic. Granted, he only had three spells in his repertoire of wandless magic, but still.
Rabastan was the first to entertain his idea. He titled his head and asked, his tone curious, "what spells do you reckon is possible for us to master non-verbal this early?"
Barty grinned.
"Levitation charm, of course."
Rabastan crossed his arms, dark eyes judging him. "Levitation charm highly depends on the incantation to help control our magic output throughout the casting."
Barty did not grin.
The older boy was right, Barty stupidly realized. There was a reason the levitation charm's incantation was as long as it was and why it was the first spell that was taught practically in charm class. The incantation and the wand movement in the charm did all the work for the casting, demanding no concentration whatsoever from the wizard who attempted it. It was the easiest spell to cast normally, yes, but it would be very difficult to cast nonverbally. Barty felt some heat creeping up his cheeks.
He would not go down this easy, he thought as he lifted his chin. "It won't be too much of a challenge for someone who already trained in wandless magic, then."
"Maybe," Rabastan shrugged, "but it wouldn't only need just a good understanding of the spell then, wouldn't it?"
Barty blushed again. This time, he found it harder to make up a retort.
Thankfully, he didn't need to.
"What about wand lighting charm?" asked Regulus, capturing both his and Rabastan's attention. Apparently the older boy had been considering Barty's idea in silence - and his suggestion was quite good, the wand lighting charm was one of the simplest charms in terms of its mechanism. Even Rabastan hummed in consideration at his suggestion.
Barty grinned again, "Try it."
Regulus didn't need to be told twice. Taking his wand on his hand, he started to concentrate on the spell. The other two were holding their breath, waiting in anticipation. Seconds turned minutes, and finally, Regulus sighed.
His casting had failed, that much was clear to the disappointment of his friends.
"How did you try to do it?" Barty asked, not quite giving up yet.
Regulus frowned. "I concentrate on lighting the wand, of course. I even tried the incantation in my head a couple times."
Both of his friends groaned at his words. Barty even slapped his own face and buried it for some moments.
Regulus was utterly confused.
"What?"
It was Rabastan who recovered first, though his face was still pinched, "mental incantation in non-verbal magic casting is a widely disapproved theory."
Now the Black's second heir blushed. "Right. I knew that."
Barty rolled his eyes. "What about the true mechanism of the spell? Do you know what causes your wand to light when you cast the charm? What does your magic alter when you cast this spell? I thought you would know to concentrate on all of that when you suggest this spell."
Barty was unimpressed and his face bluntly displayed it.
"Be quiet," was Regulus' response to his criticism before he lifted his wand again.
This time, after some moments, flickering light started to radiate from the tip of his wand. It was very faint, and if the room was any brighter, they would have easily missed the light.
But it was definitely there for a moment.
Rabastan was not expecting it. "That's something," he commented, surprise could be heard from his voice.
Barty grinned. "I bet if you practice you'll master this spell nonverbally in some months."
Regulus finally stopped trying after a while, and Rabastan took the turn to try casting the spell non-verbally. He met the same result with Regulus.
And now it was time for Barty to try it with his wand.
Giddiness flowed through him as he concentrated. Feeling the magic in his veins, he commanded it to move through his wand, before releasing it in the purest form; light. A couple seconds was what it took for his wand to shine for the briefest moment. Elated with this, his concentration broke, and the light flickered before dying away.
Barty frowned. He tried concentrating his magic again.
Same as his previous try, he managed to make the tip of his wand shone for a split second. But the light flickered and died for the second time.
He tried again. And again. And when success was still not achieved at the end of it, Barty looked away in shame.
"Maintaining it is harder."
Rabastan hummed in agreement, unaware of his shame. "You still need to continuously control your magical output throughout the casting."
"And simultaneously sustain your mental concentration on the spell mechanism," added Regulus.
"I thought it would be easy," he sulked, glaring at his wand. Olivander had said that it was suitable for non-verbal magic and Barty already had the basics for wandless magic down. So why was it still difficult for him? Maddy could do any spell non-verbally, he thought sullenly.
"Occlumency training," a voice said.
Barty looked up to meet the owner's, Regulus', eyes but the boy was looking deep in thought, eyes downcasted facing the floor, "it will help sharpen our mental abilities in retaining focus. Maybe if we organize our minds better..."
"It will help us in non-verbal casting," finished Rabastan, his expression eager. "We already got the basic occlumency training. Perhaps that is why we managed to produce a degree of light, no matter how faint it was. And Barty here is already used to meditation, so it's easier for him. But if we train our mind in occlumency..."
Barty blinked. His friends were excited, he realised. They were not disappointed at all.
The three of them proceeded to talk about occlumency training, with a few discussion of magical theories thrown in the middle of it. Barty quickly forgot his previous disappointment as he shot opinion after opinion in his discussion with his friends. No longer that they each had their books to read, now they shared one book, Mind Magick Essentials, which was laid in their midst as they sat surrounding it.
When noon came, none of them realised it. Barty had planned to return home before lunch, so he was quite shocked when he saw the time. But then Regulus offered for them to eat lunch before they went home, as his parents apparently wouldn't be joining them.
"Can't say I'm not relieved," Barty said, head tilting in curiosity, "but where will they eat though?"
"Mother is invited to Malfoy manor to help plan my cousin's wedding, so probably there," Regulus shared to them.
"And Lord Black?" asked Rabastan.
"His study, usually."
It was then that an idea passed through Barty's mind. His blue eyes widened and shone as he looked at his friends in the eyes.
"You know what this means, don't you?" He whispered, intensity filling his voice.
Regulus had no idea what this meant. "What?"
.
"This is most unrefined."
Barty snorted at Regulus' words. His hand was already reaching for his second toast. "Oh, please," said him as he rolled his eyes, "it's just lunch."
"But at the library?" Regulus pressed.
Barty only grinned as he munched on his toast. They were indeed eating at the library, particularly at the long table at one side of the room.
"Always wanted to do this," Barty said cheerfully. "Maddy never allows me to bring food to ours."
Regulus huffed.
"Your sister has it right. Library isn't a place for food."
"Uh-huh?" Barty said, looking unconvinced. "You're just saying that cause you like her."
The look on his face, Barty gleefully thought. Oh, how he wished he had a camera at the moment. Regulus looked utterly baffled, and that strangled noise he made - it was simply hilarious!
"I'm not - " his voice was so squeaky he had to clear his throat before repeating, "I am not saying that just because I - Rab, you're agreeing with him?"
Ah yes, his unexpected ally. Barty glanced to his side to see Rabastan cutting down his sausage. Without him, the meal wouldn't have managed to get into the library in the first place. Barty thought Rabastan was as proper as Regulus, but clearly his previous judgment was mistaken.
"As long as we clear the evidence without anyone knowing," replied Rabastan easily.
While Regulus gaped in indignation (his own friend, siding against him!) Barty considered Rabastan's words carefully. You see, there was definitely one being that saw them sneaking food into the library. Barty cautiously looked around, but then he quickly realized how stupid his action was. House elves could hide from a wizard's sight easily.
He cleared his throat. "Uh, Regulus. Kreacher won't tell on us, right?"
The widening and clear panic of his eyes told Barty that yes, Kreacher would definitely tell on them.
"Kreacher!"
A pop was heard from behind them.
"Young master Regulus calls for Kreacher?"
They turned, facing the house elf with their most grievous expression. Regulus, as his master, nodded solemnly. "Yes. Kreacher, I ask for you to keep this lunch from Mother."
The old house elf glanced calculatingly at the table full of plates behind them.
"We just want to study without wasting much time, you see?" Barty decided to add, his eyes pleading. "But we can't study with our stomach empty..."
Kreacher eyed him in a mix of cautiousness and uncertainty, and Barty internally cursed. This pleading look always worked on Winky but of course Kreacher wouldn't be affected. Kreacher was not his.
At this realization, Barty's elbow gave a mean jab at Regulus' side. The other boy glared at him, and Barty glared back, his eyes gesturing at Kreacher and mouth forming the most magical word. Regulus' eye twitched before he returned his attention back to his house elf.
"Please, Kreacher?"
The elf's big, tired, eyes widened in its size.
Then,
"Kreacher will keep this from the mistress," the elf declared. "Young master Regulus and his friends study diligently for their house honor."
"That we do, Kreacher," Rabastan hummed in agreement.
The three of them exchanged a smirk.
.
Sleep did not visit her the night between December 28th and 29th.
For hours, Madeline laid awake, body restless against the soft linen of her bed. Unrelenting throes of thoughts resurfaced in her mind every time her closed eyes brought forth the darkness of her head, and the clock's constant ticking that disturbed the otherwise quiet night was not helping her to sleep in any way. It was eleven PM when she decided to put better use of her conscious state, leaving her bed with a heavy sigh to approach her suitcase.
Reading books always helped. Books were a major comfort for her, the smell of old parchment and ink filling her sense with fond familiarity. The winter air grazed her skin, leaving it cold to touch, and she ended up reading a book with her arms caging her legs, body curling up like a ball on a little armchair beside her bed as her book stood leaning on one side of the armrest. She paid little attention to the clock, causing her to miss the change of the day.
But she knew, tonight Madeline Crouch turned thirteen years of age.
When she finally looked at the clock, precisely at a quarter to one, Madeline Crouch mourned for the life of Hermione Granger. For ten years she had been living as Madeline Crouch. In comparison, Hermione Granger had just joined the magical world for seven years when she left her time. She chuckled darkly at this agonizing detail. At some point of the night, she left her armchair to meet the person reflected in the big mirror in her bathroom. Ten years was a long enough time, and though she still hesitated whenever she went to see a mirror, she started to recognize the face in front of her as hers at some point during last year. She started to call her by her proper name.
Madeline Crouch. The sister of Barty Crouch.
She had been Barty' sister longer than Hermione Granger had been with Harry and Ron, and her mind was the proof of that. Cherished memories of scavenging in the garden and reading aloud Dragon encyclopedias for Barty were more vivid than her memories of Harry and Ron. That Halloween night with a troll was just a distant dream now, her mind blurred the details of the events, though she knew that Ron and Harry saved her with the use of the levitation charm - And that was her core memory of them. Snippets of little arguments, of laughter, petty bickering, and fond teasing, they sometimes still occupied her mind but she couldn't recall them all well. As if they were fading from her mind. As if she was losing them.
Madeline Crouch. The sister of Barty Crouch.
Her mission, the sole purpose of her existence, was only just beginning. She truly hoped that it would be over soon, ensuring the future of magic and the loved lives she left behind. Yet, there was this voice inside of her, screaming; Hermione Granger would outlive her use the moment her mission ended. In her place, would be her new self.
Madeline Crouch. The sister of Barty Crouch.
A sudden weight crushed her and she closed her eyes, arms hugging her own body. It was a very, very bad thought that just passed by her mind. It felt inevitable, the thing it was saying, but she knew that wasn't the case. She was here, now, as Madeline Crouch. Hermione Granger was Madeline Crouch.
She hugged herself tighter but she still didn't feel comforted.
It was late. Disturbing Barty wouldn't do.
"Winky."
Winky appeared beside her, ready as ever to fulfill her wish.
"Miss maddy calls?"
"Can I have a hug, please?" She pleaded.
The elf's eyes grew bigger and softened within a blink. It wasn't the first time that her young mistress asked this from her. In one fluid moment, Winky wrapped her little arms around her, and then one hand proceeded to sooth her rigid back.
"There, there, miss Maddy. Winky is here. Winky safe, " chanted Winky, over and over again until she relaxed.
They stayed like that for a long time.
.
Barty senior surprised them yesterday by making a request for them to celebrate Madeline's birthday at breakfast rather than at dinner, as he wouldn't be able to come home early. It was an effort on his part, and everyone happily welcomed this. Come morning, cakes were served and their little morning feast became an indulgence. She certainly enjoyed her vanilla cake, though perhaps not with the excitement of a girl on her birthday.
Her family did not fail to notice this.
"So," Barty beamed at his tired-looking sister beside him, "How's it like being 13?"
Madeline smiled warmly at her brother's effort. "I feel mature already." Meeting Mother's eyes, she asked, "any match prospects for me mother?"
Mother arched an eyebrow.
"Has anyone caught your attention, dear?"
She hummed, cutting her cake to another bite sized piece. "Many, in fact. The boys all seemed handsome at my age."
Barty let out a snort and grinned at his sister. His grin however, quickly faltered when Madeline did not return it, and instead eyed him with a frown.
He froze, his eyes widened by a fraction at his sister. Surely she jested? It was very Maddy to answer his idle question jokingly, but her state of exhaustion and her flat tone… but Maddy couldn't possibly -! He shook his head, throwing away that thought as far as he could. "You're joking, right?"
He was not alone in his bewilderment. Father was practically choking on his cake before he finally squaked, "You're still too young for all that!"
Madeline stared at them solemnly.
Both males baited their breath.
A lazy grin broke out, "I was joking."
The relief was visceral as they sighed, their shoulders loosened and chest deflated. "Thank Merlin," Barty uttered under his breath, and his senior counterpart very much shared his sentiment.
Madeline watched them in amusement. "Truly, being thirteen feels the same like yesterday." It was a lie, but amidst their relief, none of them noticed it.
Her presents were growing in number compared to her previous birthday. Instead of five, she now had seven presents waiting to be unwrapped. Three of them, she realised, were from her schoolmates. She looked at Barty questioningly, getting a satisfied grin in return.
"I told them."
Of course.
"Open mine first!"
Madeline rolled her eyes. "Alright."
Barty, it turned out, had given her a huge box of chocolate. Imported from Switzerland, the boy said and he didn't forget to proudly add, "get ready to taste the best chocolate ever."
Mother gave her a book titled 'A Witch's Charm Collection' and Madeline glared at the book as if the book offended her. Mother didn't mind her attitude at all. "You're going to need it," she claimed unconcernedly.
The third present, when she opened it, made her frown.
It was a couple of glossy satin ribbons, one with the color of dark emerald green and one in the exact shade of blue that matched her eyes. But it wasn't their color that caught her attention. As her fingers brushed the smooth surface of the cloth, she sensed a hum of magic, weaved in its silk. It was warm, all-encompassing. Protective. She immediately recognized what they were worth.
She met Barty senior's grey eyes, her gaze searching. To give her something like this… at times like this that she knew Father cared for her. Her smile turned soft.
"Thank you, Father."
The man looked away and cleared his throat, "It's a necessity for a young lady."
Beaming, Madeline closed the box of ribbons carefully and put it beside her.
Barty was watching her keenly from the side, curious in her reaction towards Father's seemingly simple present. "You like ribbons that much, Mad?"
"Very much," she easily replied, her hand already moving on to another present. The next one came from Rabastan Lestrange. It was a history book, written by one of his ancestors, Dorian Lestrange from the 17th century. Evan's present was also a book by one of his ancestors, though it focused on curses - She was pretty sure that Grandmother already had one of the copies.
Regulus Black, curiously, gave her a pureblood directory written by Cantankerous Nott. An amused smile bloomed on her face when she read his note. It said,
'Your brother shared with us the date of your birthday, among other things. I hope you don't mind.
Happy 13th birthday. Please have fun burning it.
Respectfully,
Regulus Arcturus Black.'
She kept the book and the note with the rest.
The last present, as usual, was from Grandma Adele. This year however, Grandma Adele left her a specific note on the routine dress she sent. She frowned as she read it.
"Is it another dress, dear?"
Madeline looked up to find Mother standing behind her. She passed the note to her. "What wedding did Grandma Adele refer to, Mother?"
Mother's eyebrows shot up as she accepted the note. A brief glance at the note followed by an inspection on the dress had her hummed in understanding. "Definitely Lucius Malfoy and Narcissa Black's wedding. It will be a summer wedding in Malfoy Manor's garden, or so I've heard."
While Barty's eyes shone in recognition, Madeline's eyes turned hazy at the name. She blinked out of her stupor, "are we even invited?"
Mother looked very amused by her question.
"Of course. As all the sacred 28 and more. I heard they will invite everyone worth knowing in Britain."
"Except the weasleys," Father quipped.
Mother hummed, picking up the dress to inspect it closer. "Except the weasleys. They've been in a feud for centuries now."
Finding the quality and design of the dress satisfactory, Mother carefully put the dress back in the box. It was then that Barty finally burst, asking whether he would be allowed to come as well. Among his excitement and Mother's exasperated chuckle, Madeline didn't let her troubled expression to be displayed long enough for her family to catch it.
If she was as perceptive as she usually was, she would have noticed that she wasn't the only one with a face marred in concern.
.
On the train back to Hogwarts, Madeline chose the quietness of Orpington's company over her Hufflepuff friends' chatter. There was no mistaking Madeline's unfocused state, with her eyes gazing off the window every so often. In choosing Orpington, Madeline had hoped that the other girl would refrain from prying at the reason behind it.
She should have known better.
"Are you alright?"
Madeline winced internally at the worry in Orpington's voice. It was inevitable, she consoled herself. She did fail to respond to her calls multiple times. Madeline looked up to her friend and did her best to smile, "just tired."
Orpington hummed, eyes examining. "You know, people usually return from a holiday feeling refreshed, not tired," said the girl lightly.
Madeline tried her best to contain her scowl.
"Indeed. That is exactly what usually happens, unless they have to stress about the future of wizarding Britain."
The uncaring manner in which she said it was an attestation of her mental exhaustion. She was usually more careful than this. But Orpington of course couldn't possibly imagine the extent of truth in her words, so she felt oddly apathetic after the words came out of her mouth.
"Have you heard something from your Father?" Opington asked, this time cautiousness filled her tone.
She sighed. Orpington's assumption made sense. Madeline Crouch was the daughter of the head of DMLE. Naturally, her worries all came from what little her father divulged to her. "They cut his department's budget again," Madeline shared with her.
At least Orpington's baffled face did not disappoint.
"At a time like this?" The girl asked, her tone indignant.
Madeline huffed, though a bit amused. 'A time like this' indeed. "My sentiment exactly."
The other girl fidgeted, her eyes stuck on the floor as seemed to be deep in thought.
When the girl finally lifted her gaze to meet hers, she let slip, "My father heard from my uncle that his department, that is, the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophe, has a shortage of manpower. But they denied his request to increase their budget." Her eyes hesitantly looked up to meet hers, "What is going on in the ministry, do you think?"
Madeline's eyes found themselves drawn to the window again. She hoped she could be as weightless as the clouds.
Orpington was cautioned by her parents to avoid a certain crowd, she recalled. But as a twelve years old girl who had only just come to Hogwarts last year, she was painfully oblivious, untainted really, to the horror that was unfolding beyond Hogwarts' castle. Sure, she knew about the missing people cases. She knew that the old, rigid families were rallying under a cause.
But she did not know about the creeping war. She did not know about torture. She did not know that beyond this castle, the unforgivables were running around like rats in the sewer, and the rats were playing politicians in the ministry, in the Wizengamot, and the rats were invading the minds of fathers, and brothers -
She took a deep breath.
Orpington still had her innocence. Perhaps that's why Madeline felt a bit of guilt when she turned to meet the girl's eyes and replied with honesty.
"Terrible things, Orpington. Unspeakably terrible things."
She did not elaborate beyond that, though judging from Orpington's solemn expression, her message appeared to have gotten through.
For the rest of the train ride, heaviness loomed over their compartment. The heaviness did not disappear even when they were already sitting in the bright great hall, in front of all the sweets and scrumptious meals any kid could dream of. Madeline put on her pureblood mask, exchanging idle talks and pleasantries about the holiday. She thanked the boys for their presents, indirectly informing others of her winter holiday birthday and showing them her favor for them, and she gave Regulus Black a follow up (yes, she enjoyed his thoughtful present. She had a fun time with it.)
The back of her mind however, was still preoccupied by her worries,
- until suddenly a shriek distracted all her thoughts.
"Y-your hair!"
It came from two tables beside them, particularly the Gryffindor table. A girl was seen pulling her awfully red hair, and it was not the natural awful red hair she was talking about. No, it was fiery red, the shade of a cheap hair dye and Madeline felt a bit of pity at the girl. Fortunately for the girl, she was not alone in her misery.
"Your hair!" another shouted,
"My hair!" and another -
"What is happening?!" and another.
Shouts were heard from all around the great hall, and soon all the tables were filled with students whose hair matched their house color. The professor, she realized, all had light grey hair. The implied joke on their age did not miss Professor Mcgonagall's notice, judging from her furious state. Madeline looked down to her own hair and found them colored in the most garish green. It made her pale skin look sick.
"Why, everyone is looking bright," a gleeful voice exclaimed from the house of the lions. It was Sirius Black, looking awfully proud with his obnoxious red hair. "House pride is truly worth dying for!"
The corner of her lips twitched up. Numerous groans erupted from all around the great hall and Madeline watched as her friend, Lily Evans, yelled obscenities at the group of four, her reddening face almost matching her hair. The group of four gryffindors seemed to rather enjoy her rage.
"Figures," sneered a boy at her table. She glanced at the side. It was Mulciber, her mind supplied. His slightly bloated face was full of disdain as he looked down on the table full of redheads.
"Can't you control your brother, Black?" It was another third year boy, Rowle, who said it. Regulus Black flushed in response, though he didn't deign the other boy with an answer.
There was another cry, this time from one of the upper year students. It turned out they tried to revert their hair back with a charm and had failed spectacularly. Their hair turned even more garish, and Madeline truly thought that it couldn't look worse than that.
All around the great hall, the students mourned their hair.
Gazing off the room, Madeline couldn't help it when she chuckled at her situation. She had been thinking about the war, about the future, and all around her people were concerned about a prank on their hair. It was a hilarious situation to be in.
"Mad?"
Sitting three seats from her, her brother looked concerned at her who laughed for too long over a not so funny joke of a prank. She smiled after calming down and said, "our locks are looking very Slytherin. A Slytherin lock, i say."
Her poor attempt at a pun to cover the real reason for her laugh was a success. Barty's face was pinched, not believing that his sister had truly said it. And it turned out she was not so discreet when she said it, as all her yearmates and Barty's yearmates heard it, and they all had that hilariously baffled look.
"Are you serious, Crouch?" asked Parkinson, looking at her like she was an entirely different person.
Madeline's answering grin was a bit unhinged.
"I'm mad, actually. Madeline Crouch."
The girl frowned, not quite comprehending her other attempt at pun yet. But someone did instantly understand, and he choked on nothing as he stared at her in disbelief. But of course Regulus Black was familiar with the name pun. Madeline grinned at the boy, making the boy flushed red, face still baffled.
Amidst this was Evan, ridding grapes off of its silver plate. He inspected the plate as one inspected a mirror, mind focused on his reflection. At the end of it, he shrugged.
"Well, at least some of us look good in green."