Interlude 3
Fleur glared across the desk. The man on the other side had already turned away, his head cocked to the side, a bored expression on his face as he rifled through some papers in front of him, purposefully ignoring her.
"You are not listening to me," she spat.
He turned his head lazily to look back at her, unimpressed. "You are not saying anything worth listening to," he said.
"I told you, Perrot is—"
"And I told you," he cut across her sharply. "That you have not provided any evidence. And hearsay does not count." She bit back a retort as he preempted her.
"I'm trying," she said through gritted teeth. "But I can't do much on my own; especially because you told him that I was on to him. He's obviously been keeping track of me, but I know he's been leaving the village, against stipulation, and meeting with European leaders."
He laughed at her.
"Or," he said, stretching the sound out to an exaggerated length. "He is not up to any of the nefarious business you are so keen to pin on him."
He waved her quiet as she started to speak. She clenched her jaw, fighting back the instinct to snap at him. It would only hurt her case further. He leaned over the desk at her, his face stuck somewhere between stern and condescending. Like he wanted her to feel the weight of her accusations but just couldn't quite take her seriously.
"Look. Perrot is one of the most accomplished members of our nation's embassy. He's been guiding our leaders through historical events well before you were born, far enough back to when we still lived here," he waved at his window, indicating the city outside. "To doubt his commitment towards our flag is laughable. We are in the middle of some of the most important diplomatic negotiations we've been party to in decades, so if Mr. Perrot makes an effort to ingratiate himself with our hosts, and joins them out of bounds for private, clandestine, events—that is politics. For the good of our people."
Fleur remained silent. She knew it was hopeless at this point.
"You were brought here for one reason only. The Evans boy, and that is now done. Stop all this nonsense about conspiracy, and treason, and enjoy your time here as another spectator. Because that is all you are now."
She swallowed a venomous retort. "Yes, sir."
"Good," he nodded, and gave her a patronizing smile. "Now I'm quite busy still, so…"
She jumped to her feet and stalked out of the office. It wasn't anything other than what she expected, but that didn't make it any less frustrating. To be brushed off, ignored, belittled. Like she was just some silly little girl—and Perrot was obviously too big and important for them to listen to her. It grated.
A nearby aide smirked at her as she passed by. He opened his mouth to say something but her head whipped around, eyes burning. His comment stuck in his throat. She sneered, looking down her nose at him, and kept walking.
If they wouldn't listen to her, she'd make them listen.
A lone guard stood at the end of the road. Fleur walked straight up to him, her back straight, nose in the air. He bowed slightly at the hips.
"Ms. Delacour."
She gave him a quick nod. "Michael. Is the car ready?"
"Yeah, Gamble's got it round back, hidden, just in case any of Grindelwald's dogs come sniffing around."
"Aren't you one of those dogs?" she said with a teasing smile. He winked mischievously, grinning.
"Only in appearance, ma'am."
Another one of the new recruits the muggles had brought in, one she vetted herself with mind magic. Another chip at the base of Grindelwald's power.
The car pulled around the corner, its windows slightly tinted. She climbed into the backseat.
"Where to Ms. Delacour?" the driver asked. She recognized his face, but the name didn't come to her, something like Sitz, or Sils maybe. He was one of the few who had joined before she made contact.
"The west exit, the one that has the service road," she instructed. "Find a place to park out of sight. We're waiting for someone."
The driver didn't speak again, pulling away from the village in silence, and into the looping highway that encircled it. It was a short drive, barely a handful of minutes, but she used it carefully, taking deep length breaths to center herself, to sooth her nerves and let the knotted ball of ugly emotion that had formed in her chest when talking to that prick of a diplomat slowly dissolve.
She kept her wand out in her lap, one delicate finger tapping against it in a gentle rhythm. She noticed the driver eye it in the rear-view mirror but he didn't say anything. Wands still tended to make them nervous. Normally she would've kept it hidden for their sake, but right now she needed the ritual, needed the memory of her grandmother who had been cast out of her home. The reminder of why she was doing this.
They pulled into a shadowed parking lot, adjacent to the service exit, and the driver killed the lights. The pair waited in the dark and quiet. Traffic was light on the street in front of them, a vehicle only passing by every few minutes, the few lingering workers making their way out of the village as the sun lowered in the sky. She had tailed Perrot a few times on his way out of the village, and he'd always done the same thing. She waited in anticipation.
Just as the sun started dipping beneath the distant horizon of the city, the sky flushing reddish-orange before it darkened to a cool shadow, a pair of headlights pulled out of the security checkpoint.
Fleur sat up straight.
"There," she hissed to the driver. A thick black car, windows darkened, the engine completely silent within its armored chassis, accelerated down the street, another conspicuously important looking vehicle following behind it. It had seemed bizarre to her, watching the man step up into the muggle vehicle from a distance, multiple times. Why not floo? Or Apparate? For Merlin's sake, at least a broom.
Instead they used muggle means. The only explanation she could come up with was that wherever they were going prevented any sort of magical transportation. Or perhaps the village restricted their movement as much as it did their guests. But, whatever the reason, it didn't matter now.
"Follow those cars," she whispered into the driver's ear. He swung out of the parking spot and pulled around the lot, slipping in behind the two other cars, a few dozen meters back, headlights still off. She leaned forward and tapped her wand against the dashboard.
The sight of their hood through the windshield wavered, the metal growing mottled and dark, fading in against the gloomy road. It wasn't invisible, and it was certainly far from the best disguise she'd seen, but from her practice she knew it'd work well enough in the dim light. The cars in front continued unchanged, seemingly unaware of their tail.
This was further than she'd ever gotten before, having never been able to follow them once Perrot got out into the city. It was uncharted territory; and the nerves in her stomach started creeping back in. She shoved them down ruthlessly. They followed the cars for another twenty minutes, curving into a more expensive looking part of the city, where it started to become a rare occurrence to see another vehicle. Magical area, she realized.
The black car came to a stop in front of an immense townhouse. Fleur's car slammed on the brakes, whipping into a nearby side street and jerking to a halt. She could still see Perrot's car out her back window. Perrot's driver hopped out, along with two wizards in the front, and moved around the side, pulling the back door open.
Perrot stepped out, stocky and old, his once blonde hair faded to a dull sandy grey, and desperately combed over to meet itself across the top of his balding head. He adjusted the frames of his silver eyeglasses, taking a moment to wipe his face with a handkerchief. His face was round, softened by age, his chin fading into his neck with barely a point, round cheeks dominating his face. He hurried past his retinue without a second glance and into the house.
Fleur unlocked her door. "I'm following him in. Stay here till I come back," she whispered to the driver, before slipping out.
The whole party in the cars filed into the building, and the two vehicles pulled away with a screech, leaving the road empty. A Disillusionment charm let her fade into the night as she approached.
Her magic stirred in her chest, slowly flaring to life as her heartbeat sped up. It tickled at her fingertips where they touched her wand in anticipation. But there was something else, deeper down,older, that burned inside in her. Her heritage. She could feel it, like something alive, something animal, seething and snorting, prowling through the deeps of her heart, eager to escape. She closed her eyes and let herself sink into it's depths.
The world felt hot against her skin, tingling on the edge of senses she didn't recognize, her eyes easily piercing the gloom of the fading light. She stalked up to the door. There was a source of heat just beyond, she could sense it, but a meager one, a lonely one. She knocked on the door.
It opened a crack, and a young looking wizard glared out. "Who's there?" His wand was in hand, and when he saw the empty doorstep it started to raise.
"Hey! No funny business,"
She let the disillusionment fade, shimmering into view. He nearly dropped his wand at the sight. She took a breath and pushed, her ancestral magic expanding out from within.
His face went slack, wand dropping to his side. She smiled beatifically at him, her mouth stretching slightly past what was comfortably human, but neither noticed.
"Uhhhg," he stuttered, mouth agape. She stepped into the house, drawing the door closed behind her. Coincidentally it drew her right up next to the entranced guard.
"You wouldn't want the other guards to find me, would you, sweet man?" she crooned, running a hand down his cheek. He shook it fiercely, eyes wide. Her hand dropped from his face, absentmindedly wiping against her robes.
"Good," she hissed. A cruel smile twisted itself across her face. "Take me to Perrot."
He directed her to the service passages, a series of stairs hidden from the main hall, where the manservants and help could walk up and down. It was mostly empty when they started up, the few occupants ducking out of sight from the approaching wizard. She followed behind him, invisible once again, but her hooks already set too deep into his mind. He stumbled up the stairs in a daze, absentmindedly retracing the path to Perrot.
They exited near the top floor, into a lavishly decorated hallway, expensive looking tapestries lining the walls, gaudy marble busts sprouting with bright fauna placed irregularly across the wooden floor. Another wizard was walking in the other direction as they emerged. He immediately caught sight of them.
His brow furrowed, taking in the glazed expression on the guard's face, before slowly panning over to the slightly blurry shape right next to him. He didn't even get a finger on his wand. Fleur's wand jabbed into his belly and a silent stunning spell collapsed him.
She turned back towards the first guard. He stared back at her, uncomprehending.
"Stupefy."
He toppled over onto his colleague. A pair of Memory charms and a quick Levitation had both bodies stuffed under a nearby bunch.
She stalked down the hallway, drawing close to Perrot's office. It was protected by a hefty wooden door, expensive looking gilding inlaid across it. She put her ear against it to listen. There was no sound from within, and her skin didn't feel the heat she had associated with a human presence. She creaked the door open. It was empty inside.
She drew a sigh of relief. The door was pulled shut behind her, and she made her way to the desk. There could be records, missives, notes, anything linking Perrot to his treasonous actions, but she was too cautious to hope for such a break. He was too experienced to leave something like that just lying around. She placed a listening charm on his chair, and then another on a pen, a further one on a coat hook. If he had meetings in here with European officials she was going to catch it.
She pulled a drawer open and frowned. Empty. She ripped open another drawer and it was the same thing. There should've been at least something here.
A loud click rang out behind her and she whirled around. A panel on the wall, inconspicuous among the rest, slid open, revealing a passage beyond. Two men stood in it, staring back at her.
One was a worried looking Perrot. The other was that unpleasant doctor she remembered Harry talking about.
"My, my," the doctor chuckled. "Look who triggered my alarm. Your little birdie. Just like you suspected; she was following you." His voice was pitched higher than what seemed natural, and it grated against Fleur's ears.
Perrot glowered, his fleshy face turning red and blotchy.
"You dumb girl, what are you doing here? You fucked up with Evans, and now you're trying to fuck this up too? Are Veela born stupid?" he spat at her, shaking with indignation.
"Yes, what are you doing here?" the doctor asked. He sounded only remotely interested, like it didn't surprise, or bother, him that much to find her breaking into the office, and only barely cared about her reason.
"I know you lied to me," she sneered at Perrot, trying to back up surreptitiously. "I know you're a traitor. And I'm going to prove it."
"You're getting involved in things that are not of your concern. You're out of your depth here, Veela," he snarled.
Maybe.
She let loose with her magic once again. It flowed out of her, spilling forth and crashing like invisible waves against the two men, battering against their willpower. Perrot staggered, his eyes blinking rapidly to stop from glazing over. He stepped back, and stopped. A serene smile slowly stretched across his face and his body relaxed into her influence.
The doctor didn't move. His eyes stayed sharp, and alert, watching her with almost hungry interest, not even batting an eyebrow as her attention focused onto him, trying to drown him in power.
"Fascinating," he murmured, cocking his head at her. "I wonder, are the keys to a full transformation already imprinted in your body? Ah, well, I suppose we'll find out."
She thrust her wand at him and blasted him with a spell. It flew past him, cutting two feet to the right of his shoulder and bouncing off the wall. She looked down at her wand and frowned. Her hand wobbled through the air, unable to hold still. The tip of her wand was trembling, picking up the vibrations from her shaking fingertips, and she blinked as it split into three, multiple half-translucent wand-tips wavering through the air, swinging back and forth past a blurry figure in the doorway, unable to focus. Her vision flickered, swimming at the corners.
Something slammed into her back painfully. She realized she had fallen back against the desk. Her head lolled and she saw her wand laying on the ground just out of reach. Someone was talking to her, right over her, a gentle tone that slowly faded out as her sight went black.