𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐎𝐑𝐍 | Draco Malfoy

1: Hogwarts

Chapter 1: Hogwarts

'October 31st, 1981: The defeat of Voldemort.'

Eloise Bisset inhaled deeply, removing her quill from the parchment. It was painful, to remember all the events of the last few weeks, but she knew that if he husband were here, he'd insist on it being recorded, no matter how painful it may be.

Eloise stroked the feather of her quill, a gift from her husband only a year before. Now, he was nowhere to be found, leaving her alone with a lifetime of work to carry forward for him.

Well, she wasn't exactly alone.

Eloise turned to her left, peering into the elegant wooden crib. In the faint candle light, she could make out the features of her sleeping daughter, lost in peaceful dreams and happy fantasies. Eloise gently traced the young girls' cheek with the tip of her finger, a smile so loving only a parent would be able to hold. Even in her infancy, Eloise knew that Madeline would grow up to be just like her father; brave, strong, resourceful, and determined. Eloise had spent the first few weeks after the war awaiting his return, but weeks turned into months, and soon enough, he was mourned by those who fought by his side.

Eloise pulled herself back into her desk chair, toying with the edge of the feathered quill. Caradoc Dearborn may have disappeared, but he left behind something precious, something so terrifyingly special that it scared the young mother to her very core.

With a deep breath, she kept writing.

◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌ ◌

Madeline Bisset's arrival at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was in fact not a surprise.

The many animated portraits turned and watched as she briskly walked through the castle corridors. She was, without a doubt, a beauty that may only rival that of the sunrise over the Black Lake. She was well-postured, her hands held clasped behind her back as she followed Professor Minerva McGonagall, wearing robes that you could most definitely not identify her with. They were dark and unmarked, like a Hogwarts uniform, but clearly belonging to no specific house. Madeline Bisset was a shiny new toy, and unbeknownst to her, Hogwarts loved to play.

Madeline's eyes wandered over the twists and turns of the castle, grey eyes piercing through the portraits as they dared to look at her. Her features seemed unblemished (a charm her grandmother had insisted on teaching her), with slightly plump rosy lips and the faintest constellations of freckles, now fading (once again, thank you grandmother). Her eyes held up small bags below them, decorated with a faint dark circle she never truly managed to sleep away. Her nose was perhaps the most recognisable part of her features that truly distinguished her as a Bisset; slightly upturned and thin, contrasting the thick dark eyebrows which were clearly from her father's side of the family. That, alongside with her long dark hair, falling around her face almost too elegantly.

"Hogwarts carries centuries of honour, history, and magic," Professor McGonagall spoke, her elegant and authoritative voice drawing all attention to her, "We very rarely do have such a last minute transfer, but the Headmaster seemed very keen to have you here."

Madeline didn't reply; she didn't need to. Instead, she listened as Professor McGonagall proudly spoke about the school, and of course, it's rules. All of which Madeline had studied only a few nights prior, when she'd discovered of her transfer.

"Do not leave the grounds at any cost," her mother had warned her, "Dumbledore has assured me that he will protect you in the school, but we cannot risk you leaving."