September 9th, 2018
The sun was barely rising when the door was blasted out. The three men inside the room had just enough time to turn their heads and quickly dive behind a nearby table before spells erupted from every direction. The youngest one took a quick glance at the door remnants, but the thick dust prevented anyone to see who was firing.
With a grim look at each other, they all drew out their wands, waiting for the spell deluge to calm down, which proved to be quicker than expected. Their attackers seemed to think their targets must have been hit by a curse (and who could blame them, for there were ray of lights exploding everywhere for a full minute at least) and began to advance carefully into the devastated room. A man's voice could be heard in the sudden silence:
"Wasn't that bad. Guess Jeanne was overestimating them..."
With a smirk, the three wizards stood up at once and silently cast curses at the people who entered. The man on the right was blasted away across the room and hit the wall with a sickening noise; he spat blood as he fell on the ground. One curse hit a woman straight in the face; she crumpled with a shriek of agony. The third spell missed his target by inches, making a hole in the concrete wall behind. Fragments flew in every directions, knocking down two men who had begun to move to help the woman whose face was seemingly melting. The attackers, caught completely by surprise, began to retreat under constant fire; only one woman stayed, trying to help the poor witch writhing as scars and burns appeared on her face. The three men periodically tried to curse them too, but the Shield charm raised seemed to hold on.
Suddenly, a blue ray flew across the air and hit the table behind which the wizards were taking shelter, reducing it to dust. Before they even had time to shield themselves, a dark cloud formed over their heads, and a powerful wind began to blow, knocking two of them to the ground and preventing them from standing up. The third pointed his wand to the crouching witch behind her Shield, but before he could even think of a spell, the floor under him seemed to melt, making him fall mid-chest in what was concrete seconds before. His fall had been such a surprise he didn't have time to adjust his position, and his wand was now stuck inside both his hand and the once again hard floor. Raising his head, he saw his defeater.
She was neither tall nor small; she looked like she used to laugh easily when she was younger, but now only small wrinkles were left to prove it. She seemed to be in her mid-fifties, but something in her grey eyes betrayed her real age; she must have been at least 20 years older. Her short brown hair was dusty as many curses had hit the walls, and a long scar was running from her right ear down to her hand, which seemed to be stuck in a claw-like position. She stopped to make sure the curse hurting the other witch was over thanks to her protector, and crossed the room to check up on the unconscious man. With a quiet voice, she called the rest of the attacking group, and made a small sign to two of them.
"Stéphane! Ambre! Please take care of him. He may have broken ribs; move him with care."
The rest of the group divided in two; one going to the witch who was trying to calm down after the pain, and congratulating her protector for her courage, and the other going to the two incapacitated men struck by the wind.
She then went to the sunken boy, who watched her with furor and resignation.
"So you've finally found me, Jeanne. You must be so proud of yourself, right?"
"Mister Launoy. For you, it will be 'Madame Cognazur', thank you."
With a gracious heel-face turn, she began to walk away, checking how the two groups were doing. She clearly had led the attack.
"The Minister will be very pleased to see you at least, and so will the Healers. I dare hope you will help us fix the damage you've done, Mister Launoy."
He snorted.
"As if you've got anything against me. The Aurors seem to attack anyone now, that's all I see... Or is it a crime to spend some time with friends without sending an express owl to the Justice Ministry?"
Jeanne Cognazur turned back to him. She seemed to enjoy herself, even if her face remained quite neutral.
"With friends? Of course not. But then you won't deny you know those two?"
Launoy looked confused, and perhaps even angry after himself. A small grin could be seen on Jeanne's face.
"You see, those two and I have a common friend. They seem to be well-known in England, and our friend has done a great deal to find them. May I introduce you? You may know him, though..."
A man, who had been busy roping Launoy's two accomplices and securing their wands, came to Cognazur with a grim smile.
"Rowle and Bode Jr won't be a problem anymore. I take it this is Mr Maxime Launoy?"
The man was slightly taller than Cognazur, with messy jet black hair and green eyes behind round glasses. He gave Launoy a disgusted look.
"Mr Maxime Launoy, this is Mr Harry Potter, my English friend. Harry, this is the third man you were looking for. We're going to have a long discussion..."
July 5th, 2008
"Cognazur! Would you please come to my office?"
The authoritative voice coming out of the chimney was met by a sigh as Jeanne stood up and began to walk to the now green fire. With a flick of her wand, the quill at her desk which was still writing a report stopped and stood still, waiting for the spell to be resumed. Shaking her head, she stepped into the fire and called "Minister Mekerbeche's Office!" before being warped into a burst of flames.
Mekerbeche was a tall and slender man. He was quite old, but his eyes were still full of energy, and even his detractors agreed he thought before acting. He was reading a letter when Cognazur came out of his chimney with a small cloud of ash.
"Sit down please" he told while dispersing the cloud with a small swish of his wand. "I've received news from Minister Shacklebolt."
"Good or...?"
"Both, actually. He seemed to have named Mr Harry Potter as head of the Aurors."
"The contrary would have been surprising... He's got quite a reputation, and apparently didn't steal his job."
"You're right. Potter has expressed the wish to create tight bonds with his continental counterparts. He is planning to come pay us a visit soon enough... Tomorrow, as a matter of fact. He is today in Ireland, if this enclosed planning is to be trusted."
"And what are the bad news?"
"His visit's reasons... According to this note, there are still Death Eaters on the loose. Potter seems to fear they are in hiding out of Britain... And thus probably in France."
"Can't say I'm surprised. But if it's true, they were careful enough to keep quiet..."
They stared at each other. Voldemort never extended his influence into France (Grindelwald did though, and this memory was still painful in many French minds), but they knew who he was and what he did. If some of his supporters were on the loose in France, then peaceful times were most probably behind them.
"Another thing I wanted to say. Have you heard of Professor Veridian?"
"Yes, of course. I went to his burial. He taught me, remember?"
"I forgot." he admitted. "The thing is Olympe still hasn't found anyone to replace him."
"You're not doing smalltalk here, right?" she said slyly.
"No. I want you to go to Beauxbâtons and become the new Charms and Jinxes teacher."
The silence following his words was so thick anyone would have sworn the office was empty.
"Madame Maxime is very proud of her independence, and I quite agree with her." she said stiffly.
"I am not planning to force her. But I'd like you to go and try. We need to protect the students."
She couldn't help but agree with him. The only problem was that she had to be accepted as a teacher. Mekerbeche seemed to understand her worries and smiled gently.
"I wouldn't be sending you if I didn't think you could do it. You have been head of Aurors for 6 years now with quite a record, and you won the Beauxbâtons duel tournament twice during your last two years. It would be surprising if Olympe turned you down."
She smiled grudgingly.
"Alright, alright. I'll attend the meeting with Potter tomorrow, and I'll leave to Beauxbâtons straight after that."
"Thank you Cognazur. Any plans for tonight?"
"Well... There's a match you know. Amiens Gothics versus Carnac Stonecarvers. Wouldn't miss that."
Mekerbeche dismissed her with a wave and a broad smile.
"Sure. Potter will be here tomorrow at ten. Try not to celebrate too much"
"Seeing the last results, odds are I'm rather going to drown my sorrow in eau de vie..."
The Minister laughed as the witch stepped back into the green fire, shouting "Auror's Office!". Back at her desk, she resumed the spell on her quill and began to read old files with a renewed interest.
So Death Eaters were suspected to be here, in France. While she couldn't say the possibility never occurred to her, a small part of her had hoped the English would have kept them... But the chaos in which Wizarding England had been in 1997 had lasted until the last months of 1998 when Minister Shacklebolt finally succeeded in creating a full-fledged government and in stopping the last Death Eaters before they could achieve their plan to overcome again the Ministry. With all that, and the large number of Muggleborns witches and wizards who had crossed the Channel to escape the hell Britain had become, it was no wonder some of Voldemort's followers could have sneaked their way in.
She sighed and leaned back in her chair. As if they didn't have their share of dark lunatics here. Last year she had arrested a warlock who had threatened to pour some Draught of Living Death into wine bottles if the Minister did not pass a Muggle-torturing bill. The resulting fight had made her right hand effectively unusable (luckily she was left-handed, otherwise the fight could have ended with a far worst result), but at least the wizard had been stopped. And now they would have to deal with the evilest English wizard's supporters? She had a nasty feeling years to come would be exhausting.
Her quill raised and began to gently scratch her head, waiting for the rest of the report she would write. Seizing this opportunity to think of anything else, Cognazur began to dictate the conclusion of her report, pausing only once to take a sip from a glass of water on her desk. Once done, her mind began to wander again and stopped on Potter.
She had heard of him, how he had defeated Voldemort 10 years ago, how he had risen within the ranks of the English Aurors, and of everything he had done since he had left Hogwarts. She remembered reading a note on him, and Summoned it with a negligent flick. A second later a sheet of parchment landed in front of her, and she began to read the various data they had collected on him, from his record as an Auror to his personal life. Near the end, a name caught her attention; apparently, one of his brothers-in-law had married a French woman named Fleur Delacour. She knew of her mainly thanks to her father who was the French representative to the European Magical Council, but she had made her own name taking part in the infamous 1994 Triwizard Tournament. Cognazur considered asking for a meeting, but what could she ask her? Besides, if Miss Delacour was living in England now, there was no way of seeing her before meeting Mr Potter or leaving to Beauxbâtons...
The thought of this second meeting made her shudder. She had kept in touch with some of her teachers, but to actually join them was something she had never even considered. And yet Minister Mekerbeche seemed to think she would do great... But now that she thought about it, she had been in charge of the training of applicants Aurors for 6 years now, and she even had a Spanish and a German applicant two years before, who had admitted her reputation as Auror trainer was so impressive their respective governments had sent them to get some advice, which she gladly gave. "It's no use to keep our knowledge like a closely guarded secret; we have to share it and only then will we be able to face dark magic with efficiency", she had said to them. Moreover, she considered the Storm Conjuration the German wizard had taught her a more than sufficient payment for everything he had learned from her.
A low ringing caught her attention. She looked at the clock on the mantel and saw it was already 7. Standing up, she rolled her finished report tightly and stored it into a weird looking filing cabinet which was completely empty. She closed the door and turned a knob until the words "Auror Archives - Closed Files" appeared on a small screen, then pressed a small button right under it; a swishing noise could be heard and a second later the door opened itself on empty shelves. She made the report about Potter she had been reading fly across the room and store itself neatly in a wooden box while she grabbed her cape and stepped into the chimney. Jeanne took a pinch of Floo powder and threw it at her feet. The nice warmth surrounded her at once, and it was with a broad grin, thinking only of the upcoming match, and hoping Amiens would be able to score more than 5 goals this time, that she let herself be whooshed away back home.
"Ma'am Cognazur? You alright?" asked the guard with apprehension.
Jeanne shook her head. The hangover potion was always a bit long to take effect, and she was bitterly regretting celebrating Amiens's surprising victory with passersby until past midnight.
"It's alright Martin. Just had a... Let's just say the night could have been calmer." she answered sheepishly.
"Oh, you been to the match, eh? Wouldn't've thought Rabican wou' have caught the Snitch b'fore Bazinet, he been rubbish all season... No offence Ma'am, but Gothics ain't really top notch and..."
"Thank you Martin, I'm alright. Is Mr Potter already here?" Jeanne interrupted before the guard could take her on a discussion concerning the Amiens Quidditch team's abysmal performances this season.
"Nah Ma'am, haven't seen him yet. Min'ster Mekerbeche's booked the Special Room f'your appointment though."
"Thanks Martin."
Jeanne left the guard standing behind his counter and walked away in a long corridor. The Special Room was supposed to be used only when a particularly important person was coming; she guessed Potter was important enough to deserve this arrangement. The only problem with this room was you had to authenticate every time you had to use it. Coming before the door, she put her wand on a small slot carved into the wall and waited for the door to open while a melodious voice said quietly "Rowan, Abraxan Hair, twelve inches, in use for 51 years". Jeanne flinched as the voice told so insensitively this number of years, but entered in the room nonetheless after grabbing back her wand.
The Special Room was quite unremarkable, after all. A long polished table stood in its center, and a dozen comfortable-looking assorted armchairs were gathered around it. The wooden walls had some portraits hung here and there; she went and sat under Nicolas Flamel's approving gaze. She remembered asking senior Auror Corbeil why it was called "Special", and she had answered that the Room had been used since the fifteenth century for important meetings, and thus was charmed to prevent anyone outside of the room eavesdropping or entering without special authorization. It was in this room, she had said, that the Minister had decided to side with the Revolutionary forces in 1789, that the greatest laws had been discussed, and so on. The Room was Special because of what they did in it, but it was an almost ordinary one in every other aspect.
A soft noise got her out of her thinking. She heard only the end of the sentence "11 inches, in use for 17 years" before the door opened, letting Harry Potter coming in. She caught a glimpse of another witch waiting behind him before the door closed. Potter nodded at Jeanne, but she had already stood up and was waiting for him to advance. She then heard the voice speaking again, but the characteristics were drowned as Potter spoke.
"My referent under-minister has been coming with me, I'm sorry we had no time to warn you. Minister Mek-err-bay-che was kind enough to arrange things so she could attend our meeting too, I hope it does not bother you..."
"No problem Mr Potter." she answered. And even if there is one, it's too late now, she thought.
"...inches, in use for 17 years", spoke the voice, and the door opened again, letting the witch enter. Jeanne finally could see both her guests properly.
Harry Potter was hardly taller than her, and his black hair was messy as usual. He wore round glasses, had bright green eyes, and a thin scar the shape of lightning could be seen behind a carefully placed bang. The other witch had bushy brown hair and brown eyes who were already scanning the entire room. Jeanne stood still, waiting for Harry to introduce her, which he seemed to realize a second later.
"Oh. Right. Hermione, this is Jane Cog-naz-ur, head of the French Aurors. Miss Cog-naz-ur, this is Hermione Granger, under-Minister of Justice and Law Enforcement."
"Bonjour." she said looking at Jeanne. "Je suis désolée, mais je parle peu français." she added with an apologetic smile.
"It's no problem, Minister. Interpretari!" she said, pointing her wand to her throat.
"A Translation charm? Impressive, Miss Cog-naz-ur." said Hermione Granger.
"Thank you. But my name is actually pronounced 'Conyazur', and it's 'Jeanne', not 'Jane'." she added, looking at Potter, who seemed embarrassed. "Just saying so you can try. And by the way, it's more 'Meh-curb-esh', not 'Mek-err-bay-che'."
"I will try."
"Shall we sit down then?" she asked. Evidently, Granger and Potter were waiting for her approval, as they didn't dare approach the table before she had proposed to sit; but as soon as she had finished her question, they darted to the armchairs in front of her, and sit almost at once. She couldn't help but smile as they both looked puzzled at her standing, but she helped them by sitting shortly after.
"French étiquette, you know. We had lessons at Beauxbâtons concerning how to behave in society. Don't worry, not all French will comply to those... But we have more urgent matters to discuss."
"Absolutely." answered Granger. "What do you know about Death Eaters?"
"They were Voldemort supporters, but that's all I know."
"And that's pretty much it, actually." said Harry. "There were something like forty of them, and we thought we had them all locked up But recent reports seem to point to the contrary."
"Have you heard of the Sealand Storm last April?" asked Hermione
"What, the storm which hit those small islands? I don't really see the problem with that. I mean, in the middle of the North Sea, what else could you expect?"
"It was no natural storm." answered Harry. "We were here with a handful of Aurors. And we weren't alone..."
The following ten minutes were filled with a detailed account of what had happened there. Apparently the Aurors had been suspecting the country (if one considered Sealand to be a country) to be inhabited by the remaining Death Eaters, and had sent a small force to arrest them, but the fight had been hard and some of them had escaped. The Aurors had only found some sort of deserted alchemy lab, and the arrested Death Eaters did not say anything during their trial.
"So they've clearly been up to something. And Legilimency did not give you any clue?" asked Jeanne
"No, answered Harry. They were all accomplished Occlumenses... And besides, the Minister was all too keen to announce some more Death Eaters had been jailed, so the investigations were rather short."
"But they clearly were doing more than a reunion of Voldemort's old friends." added Hermione with a smile, which made Harry chuckle. Jeanne suddenly remembered the memo she had read the day before; Hermione Granger was Harry Potter's friend, and had helped him during his infamous year spent chasing Voldemort. The hangover potion seemed to have finally cleared her mind of all the alcohol she had drunk last night.
"Sure. Nonetheless, the five Death Eaters who escaped could not be found anywhere in England... And we began to suspect they may have fled overseas. But they can't be far, the MACUSA told us they had their own way of discerning unauthorized immigration since the Scamander incident."
"And this is why you are doing a European tour? To warn governments of lunatics who may have landed months ago?"
"More or less." replied Harry with a smile. "The thing is, we know their names and appearance. And we can solemnly swear they are up to no good."
Hermione let out a laugh; it was obviously some kind of private joke between them. Jeanne cast a look at the portraits Harry had handed her. On top of the small pile was the file of someone called Thorfinn Rowle; she decided to read those after the meeting.
"Thank you. We'll be on the lookout for them. What are your plans for today?"
"Harry wants to attend tonight's match." Hermione answered slyly. "Holyhead Harpies against Quiberon Quafflepunchers. I wonder why." she added with false interrogation in her voice.
"Oh, come on, Hermione. Wait until Bulgaria, and we'll see who'll be laughing."
"I can offer a small Ministry tour, but I have an appointment in Beauxbâtons this afternoon." said Jeanne, uncomfortable watching them teasing each other.
"We'll be glad to visit, thank you. But to be honest," said Hermione as she returned to a more serious face, "I have an appointment with Minister Le Batelier (she stopped there, glancing at Jeanne, who nodded approvingly at her pronunciation). We'd like to promote Franco-English cooperation, and Fleur Delacour has accepted to be our spokesperson; we'll mostly be discussing details. Harry?"
"I'll be glad to take the tour, thanks."
"So be it. Madam Cognazur (she clearly had been silently working on her pronunciation during the meeting), Harry."
She stood up and made it to the door. Harry and Jeanne followed shortly after, and went back to the Main Hall. Harry looked awkward while walking alongside Jeanne, but tried to break the silence.
"You know, you remind me of my Transfiguration teacher."
"I'll take that as a compliment." answered Jeanne politely while taking him to the Auror bureau.
"It was. She is an exceptional witch... And demanding too."
"Any teacher should be demanding. You can't be pleased with acceptable magic from your students, yet it is no use to force them doing things they clearly don't have a knack for."
"You MUST know her." he said with what sounded like a suppressed laugh. "But that's not the point. So, how long have you been head of Aurors?"
"It's been..." She calculated quickly "6 years now. I was promoted after Avelaine Corbeil retired. Minister Girdeau thought I suited the post well... Looks like he wasn't wrong after all."
"I can only hope to be as good as you are. I've read a summary of your career... Quite impressive."
"I can say the same of yours, Mr Potter. Head of Aurors so young... Minister Shacklebolt clearly trusts you."
"Yes. What's more surprising for me is that senior Aurors have apparently backed him in promoting me."
"They trust you too. It's important to be trusted by your team. Only then you'll be able to bring out the best in them."
He stayed silent, apparently pondering what she had said. While talking, they had arrived to the Auror's Headquarters, and Jeanne made him enter. The office was almost empty, only for an ill-looking wizard with a goatee and brown hair even messier than Harry's who greeted Jeanne warmly. She introduced both wizards to each other before going to her own office. Harry looked at the filing cabinet with great interest, and accepted gladly Jeanne's proposal to go to the rest area and drink a coffee. They sat and made smalltalk during an hour, talking mostly about Quidditch (Harry had apparently played Seeker while at school), and discussing the upcoming match (Harry's wife had played Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies, and he and his wife had kept in touch with the whole team). By the end of the hour, both of them were on first-name terms, and began sharing souvenirs; Harry was a good-natured person, and Jeanne felt like she could trust him, and her instinct had never been wrong. Casually checking the hour, she was surprised to see it was already noon, and apologized to Harry as she stood up. He smiled and asked if he could use the training space this afternoon, which she gladly accepted.
As soon as she had left the rest area, Jeanne was back to her usual self and cast all her mind on the upcoming appointment with Madame Maxime. She had had only one job interview before, and it had been a mere technicality as she had done her internship at the Auror Bureau; she definitely didn't know what to do. She expected she would have to display strong knowledge in both theory and practical magic, but apart from that, she was completely lost. She didn't even know the current Headmistress; Jeanne had left Beauxbâtons two years before Olympe Maxime had been hired as Transfiguration teacher.
She came back to her office, hoping to get some more work done, but she couldn't focus for more than a minute before coming back to her appointment. She Summoned a sandwich from a small plate in a corner of the room, and began to eat while thinking of the consequences of her being eventually welcomed at Beauxbâtons.
First of all, she would have to decide what to do of her small flat near the Ministry. After a small minute of reflexion, she decided to keep it. After all, she didn't need any more money than she already had, so better not to sell it. Besides, she didn't felt much like moving everything to the accomodations she would maybe have.
She let her gaze wander around the room. She still had two full hours before her Portkey left, and yet she felt as if Madame Maxime would enter suddenly.
Jeanne stood up and began pacing in annoyance. She had led the Aurors for six years now, had arrested countless criminals, and she had even saved High Judge Ostrowska from a particularly inventive murder attempt involving a dozen Boggarts and a Mirroring Charm. Why should she be afraid of a job interview?
She got a grip on herself and smiled. She had nothing to fear from Beauxbâtons, and she suddenly felt more confident than ever. Grabbing another sandwich, she went back to her desk and began to read the files Potter and Granger had given her. She didn't stop until a soft voice coming from her clock told her she was to be at Beauxbâtons in thirty minutes and that her Portkey left in 5 minutes. She put back the various sheets inside the folders and stored them all in the Sorting Cabinet, setting the knob on "Confidential", and stopped for a second to check her deep blue robes, waving her wand to remove the crumbs. Satisfied, the witch grabbed a small golden pin and waited, standing up in the middle of her room. When the clock started ringing, she felt the usual hooking behind her navel, and a second later she was in front of a huge ornamented wrought iron gate.
She hesitated for a second before stretching her hand to grab and pull a small chain connected to a golden bell which didn't make a sound, even though it had been almost horizontal for a moment. The door opened before her, and she came back in the park of Beauxbâtons for the first time in decades.
It was exactly as she remembered it; a huge French formal garden, with carefully pruned hedges, and here and there fountains with statues representing witches, wizards, beasts, and many other things. The trees looked ancient, and the shadows they cast looked welcoming in the blazing heat of July. The flowerbeds around the fountains were all covered by small daisies, either white or blue, and in the middle of this thick flowery carpet the crests of the different advanced formations, all made using the flowers they bore; lilies, blue roses, tea flowers, and most important in Jeanne's eyes, deadly nightshades.
She smiled fondly, remembering all the things she had done while she was here; turning all the water from the fountains a shocking pink, dueling this dumbhead - what was his name... Vandenbrucke ? - who had been loudly explaining that "girls just can't be bewitchers, they are too fragile and delicate" (she had had a particularly vindicative pleasure of muting and hexing him while his little crew was watching), the first kiss she had exchanged under the oak... She blushed at that particular memory.
"Madame Cognazur?"
Jeanne looked around and saw the man who had called her. He was tall, with long black hair tied behind his neck, and a small goatee. He looked hardly older than 30. He went and bowed before her before speaking again.
"Madame Maxime is waiting for you. May I lead you to her office?"
"Of course, Monsieur... I'm afraid I don't know who you are."
"Where are my manners? Julio Ayala, Herbology teacher, and Head of the Gardeners. I hope you find the park well cared for."
"Exactly as I remember it", Jeanne answered, and Julio looked extremely contented. "Shall we go then?"
"This way, Madame."
They left the great park and went on a great paved alley. The castle could barely be seen behind a tall hedge, and Julio was actively discoursing on the various gardening techniques and the flowers he and his team used in the park, effectively making it one of the most beautiful gardens in Europe. Small and delicate rotundas were on each side of the alley, leading the way to an arch in the hedge. Once passed, Jeanne could finally look at the castle entirely.
It was a perfect example of the Renaissance french castles, and Jeanne had always thought it was quite like Versailles. Great stairs led to ornamented doors, and huge windows lightened the facade, otherwise heavily decorated with carvings and statues of great magical personalities. Over the main door the crest of Beauxbâtons was sculpted, and just under it the motto "Cum spititum et nobilitam" was written on an elegant stone ribbon which was enchanted to slowly wave as if it was made of cloth. The witch remembered the first time she had passed this door, shivering and fearing whatever was awaiting her. Decades later, she was back, afraid again, though this time she had an idea of what to expect behind those doors. Mr Ayala opened the door, and they entered into the Waiting Hall.
Once again, Jeanne felt as if she had travelled through time. The magnificent hall was empty except for a huge statue of Isabelle de la Barre, the first Headmistress of Beauxbâtons. The walls were covered with paintings of witches and wizards displaying magic feats or brewing potions, one or two just sitting behind a desk and thinking. Julio turned to her and said with a smile, pointing a real-size portrait of a good-natured witch:
"Madame Maxime is waiting for you."
Jeanne walked to the portrait and stood there, unsure what to do next. But the painted witch smiled and spoke to her:
"You wish to see the Headmistress?"
"Actually, I think it's more the other way round."
"Well then... who shall I announce ?"
"Jeanne Héloïse Cognazur. I am here to apply as Charm and Jinxes teacher."
"Yes, the Headmistress warned me. Come in." she added with an even greater smile, as the portrait swung and revealed what looked like a simple cavity in the wall, yet Jeanne could feel the magic shivering. She stepped forward and found herself inside not a small niche, but a great warm room with shelves everywhere and a beautiful desk, behind which a woman was sitting. The Transportation charm had been completely smooth.
The Headmistress was clearly taller than any other person Jeanne had ever met. She was really handsome, with an olive-skinned face and beautiful great black eyes. She raised her head and made a small gesture, inviting Jeanne to sit on a comfortable-looking armchair. Once seated, the Auror waited for the Headmistress to begin.
"Thank you very much for your appliance. I have to say I am a bit surprised to see Jeanne Cognazur in front of me."
"May I ask you why?"
"Well, one may think being Head of the Auror bureau is already a good carreer choice, isn't it?"
"I have never been one for staying at the same place for years."
"So you were," said Olympe Maxime with a small nod," and so you have come. And actually, I don't think I will ever find a better candidate for this post."
This sentence took Jeanne off-guard.
"Excuse me?"
"I don't think anyone is more suitable for this post than you", she repeated, "and I have excellent reasons. Firstly, during your Auror carreer, you have displayed prodigious feats and anyone reading the news knows that. Secondly, Professor Veridian always spoke of you in high terms, and even mentioned your name when asked for a possible successor. And finally, I will personally sleep much better if I know I have at least one teacher here who would be able to protect the students if Death Eaters were to come."
Jeanne was thunderstruck. She had been expecting many things, but surely not this. Her nonplussed face made Madame Maxime smile.
"You don't really think Minister Mekerbeche didn't tell me a thing?"
"Well..." Jeanne hesitated, but she couldn't think of anything.
"Alright. Now this is settled, I'd like you to arrive on the 15th of August with the other teachers. Do you wish to live in the castle? There is a free appartment."
"But you surely won't be hiring me only because my resume says I am capable, right?" Jeanne asked.
"Come on, Madame. I wouldn't offer you this job if I didn't think you weren't suitable. And I have never been wrong about a teacher before. Besides, I have asked you to be there in mid-August so more experienced teachers will be able to help you. And you will have full access to Victor's notes; his lessons are still perfectly up-to-date, you know?"
Jeanne hesitated again. But deep inside, a small voice was already telling her it was the right thing to do. She had begun to grow tired of hunting Dark wizards, and the perspective of facing nothing more dangerous than a hormone-filled student was somehow enviable. She finally smiled and nodded:
"Alright."
"Perfect! And concerning the accomodation?"
"Consider it occupied from now."
Both women were now smiling. Madame Maxime rummaged in a pile of papers and gave Jeanne a small form.
"The fifteenth of August. Your accomodation will be ready. I am really looking forward to working with you."
"Thank you, Madame the Headmistress."
Madame Maxime giggled and shook her head.
"Call me Olympe, Jeanne."