𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 | Draco Malfoy

0.5: Prologue

PROLOGUE

Italics (Speech)= Spoken in French

In the luxuries of high society, you may be gifted tinted rose glasses; with no knowledge that the world is truly a maddening, unjust place.

Where our story starts, Madeline Bisset is one of these people.

It was a warm summer's night. The sun had long since set, the grounds of the Bisset mansion shrouded in darkness, except for the soft golden light emitting from the chandeliers and floating candles inside the mansions' grand ballroom. A light bustling of voices could be heard amongst the skilfully played violins, breathing life into the gilded golden room. The enchanting music filled the air, laughter accompanying it like a harmony. Violins and harps and any other celestial symphony danced through the air with dexterity only known to angels. It was a perfect night.

In aristocratic society, life may not change as quickly as one may think. In fact, you could even live with the monotony of life and be content. After all, champagne fountains and frivolous desserts would make most people quite delighted, especially when you know no better.

In the comfort of the French mansion in Grasse, Madeline Bisset was far more concerned with not stepping on her partners' shoes during their waltz than what the future may bring. For you see, she was one of the few gifted with the ignorance to life; privileged enough to be unaware of what was to come. She didn't wear the rose-tinted glasses; she was in the rose-tainted world.

"A lovely night, isn't it?" Adam Louis asked Madeline, her face turned away to peer at the charming couples around them. Also, because she was most certainly not interested in what he had to say.

"What makes this night any more special than the last?" Madeline asked, her face still turned away as they danced. She almost looked bored, but she certainly felt it, "A ball should make no difference to how lovely a night might be."

"You," Adam replied, a small smirk on his face as her eyes finally met his, "Your beauty is most certainly something that should be celebrated."

"What a perfectly rehearsed response. No matter... We're far too young for you to put such importance on these things," Madeline scoffed, "You should be more preoccupied about not stepping on my toes, which by the way, you've been doing."

"I've always known that Bisset women were uptight, but you are a whole other story," Adam's smirk dropped, as did the hand that was settled on Madeline's waist. The music came to a stop, Adam having already made a swift exit before the other couples had finished their curtsies. Madeline simply watched him storm away, a faint smile on her face as she waved him off.

Entitled men truly were an entire different species. She swore that you could cut a man and he'd bleed audacity.¹ Adam Louis was perhaps the best example of this. Typical; hurt his ego, watch him leave. It was a game, really.

Smiling politely at the few acquaintances around her, Madeline made her way to the side of the room to collect a drink. It had been, after all, a gruelling twenty minutes of pointedly ignoring Adam's advances. The week before had been yet another young rich man she'd already forgotten the name of, and the week before had been yet another one of her Grandmothers-approved suitors. She took a sip of the dark purple liquid, unfazed as her mother, Eloise Bisset, slid to stand alongside her, waiting for the music to return before speaking.

"The Louis boy left the party," Eloise mused, "Care to explain why?"

"Ego is not a criteria I look for in a man, and I'd appreciate it if you told Grandma to stop trying to set me up to create an heir to her fortune," Madeline shrugged, walking with her mother to a secluded corner of the gilded room. Adam was now dancing with a pretty blonde girl near them, most certainly using the same compliments on her as he just had on Madeline, "I might be more interested, however, if he found himself a much more refined suit."

"Oh thank Goodness, you're far too good for him," Eloise sighed, "His French was rather unrefined, and his dancing? Atrocious."

"Thank you mother for your fine review of my suitors," Madeline laughed, "I don't understand why Grandma insists on these events; they're so performative. She's only inviting these people to find me a hand in marriage, which quite frankly, is a little offensive, not to mention prehistoric."

"Your father hated these functions too. You should enjoy it while it lasts," Eloise looked away wistfully, a sad smile on her face. However, this was most definitely not missed by her bright and beautiful daughter. She watched her mother carefully, the next words rolling off her tongue with caution.

"Is there something you're not telling me? Because you never usually support Grandma's madness," Madeline asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. However, it was enough for her mother to turn back to her.

"We can't speak here," her mother whispered, her tone turning serious as she began taking the glass from her daughter's hand and briskly walking to the glass door behind them.

Both women slid through the small crack in the door quickly, as if the two had years of practice with fleeing aristocratic events (which they did, but they'd never admit that unless behind closed doors). They both understood that some conversations should be had far away from prying ears and eyes. That, and petty gossip was one of their favourite hobbies.

"Things are changing in the world, Madeline," Eloise began, her back turned to her daughter as she stared out onto the darkened grounds of her mansion. The music continued behind them, as if they hadn't even left, "There is something coming, my darling. Something dark that your father gave his life to protect us from. Something I've spent your entire life protecting you from."

Madeline froze. Suddenly, the world felt a lot colder, a lot less rosy. "It can't be-"

"I don't know and there is no way to be sure," Eloise admitted, her hand on the railing in front of her tightening, "I have done all that I can to keep you away from that world, but with dark times coming, we can no longer trust family to keep us safe."

We can no longer trust family to keep us safe.

"Maman what are you implying?" Madeline asked shakily, her hands pinned to her sides, as if they'd reach out to hold her mother if she didn't stop them, "Is he... Is he back?"

"An old friend of your father's had reached out to me a few weeks ago," Eloise began, slipping a folded parchment out of her dress pocket, "Your father was a good man, but my family was not, and perhaps still isn't. And you'll be much safer with his."

Shakily, Madeline took the parchment from her mothers outstretched hands, meeting her gaze. Her mother had always been a strong, independent and fierce woman, who would stop at nothing to protect the wellbeing of those close to her. She'd seen her mother during the highs and lows of her formidable career, but this moment was incomparable to anything she'd ever seen her mother deal with.

Slowly, she unfolded the crinkled parchment. As she did, it seemed the folds themselves vanished, a pristine letter lying in the palms of her hands.

Dear Miss Madeline Bisset,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

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Chapter reviewed and edited: 26/10/22