Chapter Forty Nine
...
"All right, is everyone ready for our camping trip? We'll have to be quick and quiet, and make sure you're on your best behaviour, understand?"
"Yes, Miss."
Susan smiled tightly, trying not to worry the kids or dampen their obvious enthusiasm. Even with the suddenness of this supposed "camping trip" the kids were excited and not at all suspicious. She'd shrunk the size 85 cauldron down far too early this morning, and clutched it in her pocket now, the cold metal against her fingers making this all feel far more real. Susan was secretly terrified that everything would go wrong and they'd all be caught by Jacques. Whatever she knew or didn't remember, she knew that Jacques was dangerous.
Glancing at the clock above the fireplace, she watched as the clock ticked over to seven AM. As soon as it did, the fireplace lit up with blue flames, and two wizards stepped out. She swallowed down her fear as far as it would go, and guided the children from the hallway to the fireplace where Draco and Blaise waited.
"Good morning, kids! Are you all excited for your trip?" Blaise asked, smiling.
"Yes!" the children practically yelled.
Draco winced at the sound and tried not to let it show on his face.
"All right, into the fireplace, one at a time. We'll be taking you through, so hold onto our hands tight, and keep close, okay?" Blaise said, offering his hand to the first of the children.
Eyes wide, the child nodded, stepped forward, and took Blaise's hand. They stepped back into the fireplace together, and disappeared silently to where Dennis was waiting and setting up the magical tent to keep the children sheltered and safe until Avenir could be brought down.
Draco offered his hand to the next child, hoping they wouldn't be sticky, and tried a smile similar to Blaise's. The child barely seemed to appreciate his effort, far too excited, and took his hand. Draco threw a few grains of the blue Floo powder from the bag at his belt into the fireplace, taking the next child through the flames silently.
Blaise returned alone and took the next child through, then Draco returned to take the next child, and so it continued for the next fifteen minutes until all thirty children were gone from the school. Blaise stayed behind to keep the children occupied and Dennis sane, and Draco returned to the school to take Susan.
She was pale, pacing, and clearly nervous. "Are they all okay? Fabien gets motion sickness - "
"Believe me, we found that out when he puked on Dennis. They're all fine, Susan, I promise," he added, a little kinder. "Are you coming, Skeleton?" Draco asked, offering his hand to her.
Swallowing hard, Susan nodded and took his offered hand, stepping into the fireplace beside him. A second later, her stomach swooped as the school disappeared from her sight.
The fireplace she stepped out of was in a small sitting room, hardly bigger than a closet, but it led out to a field of flowers and grass. She heard the delighted squeals of her students and hurried out to join them, Draco forgotten behind her.
They'd gotten all of the kids and Skeleton out, and nothing had gone wrong. Draco breathed a sigh of relief and he rolled his shoulders, turning back to the fireplace to let Pansy know the good news. Outside, Blaise and Dennis were settling the kids into the tent that had been setup to keep with the camping trip idea. When it was certain they were safe and Ginny was out of Avenir, the children would be sent to Hogwarts and found families that would keep them protected and safe from any outliers or followers of Project Serpent.
He truly hoped that the children would be loved in their families, too. No child deserved to live in a loveless family, especially ones that had probably been put through torture or experiments at Project Serpent, and Draco promised himself to follow up on each and every child and their new family personally.
Throwing a few grains of the blue Floo powder into the fireplace, Draco barely had a chance to say Pansy's grate number before it opened, and Pansy's head floated in the flames. "Snow, report."
"It went off without a hitch. We've got all the kids, Skeleton's safe, and - "
"Miss?!"
The screams outside had Draco running outside in an instant, his wand drawn and ready for... he had no idea what. "What's going on?"
Blaise had his wand drawn as well, but his face was paler than Draco had seen before. "It's Skeleton. She's disappeared."
...
"Ils préparent ma fête d'anniversaire surprise. Que faites-vous ici?" Jacques demanded of the witch, almost elbowing her out of the way so he could get into his office. He stood between the witch and Amelie protectively, a paper bag of pastries held in one hand and his wand clenched tightly in the other. (They are planning my surprise birthday party. What are you doing here?)
Ginny didn't know if he was holding his wand to stop her from attacking the witch or so that he could heal her after Amelie's likely power-fuelled blowout. She started to gather her magic at the core of her body, planning on doing exactly that in a calculated manner - it needed to be just large enough to get away from the witch so she could process all of this without Jacques as a witness - when the woman laughed, low and breathy.
It was the exact same laugh she'd used with Jordan when she first met him, and then again with Blaise, and yet again with Draco. Time and time again, Claudia had flirted and played the vapid blonde witch and everyone had dismissed her as a Galleon-seeker or desperate, rather than take her seriously as the threat she clearly was.
How long has Claudia been working for Avenir? Is she a double agent or is she double crossing Cloffice? Does Pansy know?
"J'allais te faire une surprise d'anniversaire à moi, Jacques, chéri," Claudia replied, sultry, sexy, and without a hint of shame or thought for Jacques' girlfriend standing right behind him. (I was going to give you a birthday surprise of my own, Jacques, darling.)
Amelie looked around Jacques, her eyes widening when she saw the lingerie peeking out from the low-cut trench coat Claudia was wearing. That sight certainly wasn't pleasant to begin with, but it was the perfume she was wearing that set Ginny off. It was a thick, cloying floral scent that she recognised far too well: it was the perfume she'd used to mask the love potion she'd used on Draco at the Malfoy Annual Ball. In an instant of pure rage and jealousy, the calculated blowout that Ginny had planned became an overwhelming one instead. Power pushed out of her body in every direction. It passed through Jacques and Marcel harmlessly but plowed straight into Claudia. She didn't have a chance to react and was thrown clear back through the office, flying over cubicles, chairs, and colleagues, and landing with a heavy thud against the feature wall on the other side of the room.
It was obvious with that one spell that she had even more power than Jacques had expected. Ginny had downplayed her power on her return, even with her last supposed blowout, and had kept it to the same level she'd had as Amelie previously. She'd grown in power since then - her own power as Ginny was stronger than Amelie and Ginevra, after all, especially since going through Cloffice's training for a second time - and she knew she'd need an explanation eventually.
A lie about being tortured to do spells for her captors began to form in her mind. It wouldn't hold up to too much scrutinisation, but it would do for now.
Outside Jacques' office, silence descended faster than Claudia had flown through the air, and Amelie let out a shuddering gasp as she turned around to bury her face in her hands. Between her fingers, she could see that she'd destroyed most of Jacques' office but more importantly, she'd fractured Jacques' office window. Rather than the view she'd become used to in the last month, she could see brickwork and the glow of a fireplace.
His real workplace was right there! A single pane of glass separated them and she could get in there, find his research, destroy it again, and -
"Amélie. Belle, regarde moi. Elle n'est rien pour moi et ne le sera jamais. Est-ce que tu me crois?" (Amelie. Beautiful, look at me. She is nothing to me and never will be. Do you believe me?)
Shit. She'd forgotten about Claudia.
Amelie's hands dropped, trembling at her sides. "Je devrais... je devrais y aller." (I should... I should go.)
"Non, non, tu restes, belle. Elle doit partir, pas toi," Jacques said, pressing a kiss to her temple. (No, no, you stay, beautiful. She needs to leave, not you.) "Ici, asseyez-vous et reposez-vous pendant que je la fais escorter hors du bâtiment," he said, guiding her to the lounge. (Here, sit and rest while I get her escorted from the building.)
Amelie's knees gave way far too easily and she was sitting a moment later. Ginny desperately wanted to follow after Jacques and Claudia. She knew they were going to talk and trade information even as Claudia was "escorted" out of the building, and she wanted to know what they would say to each other. Jacques might reprimand Claudia for what she'd said or what she was wearing, but as he'd said last time, Claudia was a messenger. Ginny seriously doubted she'd come here just to have birthday sex with Jacques. It would provide the perfect cover to pass on a message while everyone thought they were having sex, after all.
Marcel blinked a few times, then seemed to realise he was still alive and standing, letting out a relieved and shuddering breath. "Je vais découvrir ce qu'ils disent," he said, leaving the room before she could respond. (I'll find out what they're saying.)
Ginny was alone in a matter of seconds - no one from outside of the office wanted to risk a repeat performance, especially with Jacques' girlfriend - and she realised that the end of her mission was right there in sight. She knew where Jacques' work office was now, and she could get in. Ginny glanced at the shattered window.
It wasn't broken fully so she couldn't get into the workspace without drawing more attention to herself. Could she get in there, destroy everything, and get back out in time to fix the window before Jacques returned and caught her?
She didn't know the answer if she could, but Ginny couldn't pass up this opportunity, and she knew that she had to try. Standing on legs that were shaking for more than one reason, she pointed her wand at the broken window to Vanish it entirely.
...
"George, now's not the best time, unless it's urgent or important?" Pansy asked distractedly.
While she waited for Draco or Blaise to report on Skeleton's rescue, she was still trying to work out just how Claudia had infiltrated Cloffice. As such, Pansy was surrounded by what felt and looked like hundreds of parchments, combing through each report and parchment relating to or even mentioning Claudia.
"It's both, Director Parkinson," George said.
His use of her title had Pansy actually looking at his head floating in the fireplace, and she set the parchment down to focus on him properly. "What's going on?"
"Alexandre and Louisa know about Avery's Time Turners and how to read the shipment ads. There'll be an ad in tomorrow's Prophet with the next shipment's place, date, and time."
"That's excellent. I've got a contact there; I'll get them to get me a copy before it goes to print. You know how to read it, too?"
"I should be able to decipher it, but Alexandre will tell me if I can't work it out. I'll wake him at bloody midnight if I have to."
"Good. Now, I'll have to leave you there so I can deal with this - "
"Sorry to interrupt, dear Pansy, and I don't mean to pry, but is that who I think it is?" George asked, nodding to the parchment she'd set down.
It wasn't one of the spelled parchments to stop others from seeing, so George could see Claudia's face clearly through the fireplace.
"That depends on whether you think it's Claudia or not," Pansy said, frowning. "Why?"
"Because if she's fucking up Gin's mission a second time, I'll kill her myself."
"Again? What do you mean?"
George focused on her face once more, and seemed surprised by her question. "The Malfoy Annual Ball."
Pansy's eyes widened as realisation hit. "The love potion perfume, of course! That explains how she got into Cloffice. I need to see who referred her to us. I either need to put the whole department under review or someone there may still be under the influence. I might review them all anyway," she muttered.
"Good luck. Let me know when you get your copy of the Prophet, okay? I'll be right there and ready to drag Alexandre in myself if I have to."
She smiled briefly. "Thanks, George."
"Anytime," George said, closing the grate on his end.
...
"You're sure there's no one else?" Morrigan asked, wringing her hands.
"No one who's been through training, no one who knows Claudia like you do, and no one who I trust to get this done," Pansy added firmly.
"I don't know her, though! I tried very hard not to know her," Morrigan protested.
"You can mimic her enough for this. The meeting time has been changed at a great cost to me, and someone needs to meet Avery before Claudia screws up several missions. You have to go in and get those Time Turners, Morrigan; you're the only one who can."
Morrigan wanted to protest again, but she knew Director Parkinson wouldn't have asked her if there was anyone else available. "Well, at least it'll be a way to test my new Polyjuice Potion in the field."
Pansy smiled briefly. "Thank you. You have five minutes to make your excuses at work and get here; Lin will let you into my office."
"Yes, Director Parkinson."
Five minutes later, Morrigan walked into Director Parkinson's office and hoped her sweaty hands wouldn't betray her. She'd trained for this! She could pretend to be Claudia; she could single-handedly arrest Avery, a former Death Eater who had escaped justice and George Weasley; she could bring back a whole shipment of Time Turners without being detected; and she'd be fine.
Oh, gods, don't throw up.
"Thank you for doing this at such short notice, Morrigan. Your Polyjuice Potion is waiting; I already added Claudia's hair to it."
Morrigan looked from Pansy to the simmering and steaming goblet sitting beside her, and swallowed hard. At least the aloe vera should help with her nausea.
"Thank you," she said weakly, picking up the goblet and drinking it down.
...
Before Ginny could do anything to the window, Marcel returned to the office and shook his head. She had no idea what he meant by that and couldn't ask, as Jacques returned a second later. Her wand still drawn, Amelie repaired the broken window and turned to her boyfriend. She saw that Jacques had a tension to his shoulders and expression that hadn't been there before he'd escorted the witch out of the building.
Clearly, whatever Claudia had told him wasn't good news. She hadn't recognised Ginny, had she? She was certain that she looked nothing like her former self - even after Training Centre Four, when she'd been this sickly and weak, she still had Weasley red hair and freckles, not a brunette with pale skin free of freckles - and she'd met Claudia's eyes before Jacques had stepped into the room. There had been no hint of recognition on her face, so surely that meant Whisper and Shadow had done their job well. Oh, Merlin's beard, what if she had recognised her, and now Jacques was going to torture her? She'd seen what he'd done to people for little more than their blood and status as a Muggleborn; what would he do to her as a traitor to him, Avenir, and Project Serpent now that he knew the true extent of her power?
"Je suis désolé, belle. Je ne m'attendais pas à ce qu'elle fasse... rien de tout ça. Je la virerais si je le pouvais, mais ce n'est pas entre mes mains. Ne vous inquiétez pas, elle sait qu'elle ne recommencera plus jamais." (I am sorry, beautiful. I did not expect her to do... any of that. I would fire her if I could, but it is out of my hands. Don't worry, she knows not to do it ever again.)
Amelie gave a soft laugh, the sound hollow and disbelieving. "J'étais là, Jacques, et ça ne l'a pas arrêtée. Pensez-vous vraiment que mon sort et être escorté hors du bâtiment l'empêcheront d'essayer à nouveau?" (I was standing right here, Jacques, and it did not stop her. Do you really think my spell and being escorted out of the building will stop her from trying again?)
Jacques sighed in frustration, running a hand through his hair. "Marcel, puis-je avoir une minute d'intimité avec Amélie, s'il vous plaît?" (Marcel, can I have a minute of privacy with Amelie, please?)
"Bien sûr. je te verrai au déjeuner," he said with a nod, leaving the office and closing the door behind him. (Of course. I'll see you at lunch.)
Ginny almost wanted to beg him to stay, just so she wouldn't be alone with Jacques, but knew she couldn't do it without raising suspicion.
"Vous vous sentez bien, belle? Vous tremblez. Avez-vous utilisé trop de pouvoir sur cette... cette sorcière?" Jacques asked, taking her hands in his own. (Are you feeling all right, beautiful? You're shaking. Did you use too much power on that... that witch?)
"Je ne voulais pas. C'est juste que... je suis devenu si jaloux, je n'ai pas pu m'en empêcher," Amelie said, the truth etched in every syllable. (I didn't mean to. I just... I got so jealous, I couldn't stop myself.)
Of course, Jacques didn't need to know she'd been jealous over Draco rather than him. Gods, she missed Blaise and Draco so bloody much.
Inhaling shakily, Amelie tried not to cry. "Je suis désolé, je te fais confiance, Jacques, mais... je ne lui fais pas confiance." (I'm sorry, I do trust you, Jacques, but... I don't trust her.)
Jacques snorted and sat next to her, curling his arm around Amelie's shoulders and holding her close. "Ne t'inquiète pas, ma belle, moi non plus." (Don't worry, beautiful, neither do I.) He looked around his office, seeming to finally notice the mess and destruction she'd caused, and tutted. "Tant de puissance pour un si petit, si beau. Tu sais que je t'aime, n'est-ce pas?" He tilted her chin gently and kissed her, possessive and hungry. (So much power for one so small, beautiful. You know I love you, don't you?)
The kiss was unexpected and she'd forgotten what it was like to be kissed by Jacques like this, the feeling of being wanted for her power rather than loved for herself. She was not going to throw up. She was not going to... Okay, she might throw up.
Ginevra forced the feeling down, and Amelie melted against his lips like she'd done a thousand times before.
"Voilà, belle. Te sens-tu mieux maintenant?" Jacques asked. (There you are, beautiful. Are you feeling better now?)
Amelie nodded, a blush on her cheeks, and shy like she'd been the first time they'd kissed. "Je suis désolé, Jacques, mais j'ai vu ton atelier - j'ai réparé la vitre pour que personne d'autre ne voie. J'espère que je n'ai rien détruit d'important?" she added, half nervous, half anxious, and a whole lot of curious. (I'm sorry, Jacques, but I saw your workroom - I fixed the glass so no one else would see. I hope I didn't destroy anything important?)
Jacques looked over at the hole in the glass. "Ah, voyons, d'accord?" he said, standing and offering her his hand. (Ah, let's see, shall we?)
She blinked up at him, eyes wide. "Je peux voir à l'intérieur?" (I can see inside?)
"Bien sûr, belle. J'avais peur que ce soit trop pour toi, mais tu es plus fort que je ne le croyais. Tu trouves toujours un moyen de me surprendre," Jacques said, lifting her to her feet. (Of course, beautiful. I was worried it would be too much for you, but you are stronger than I gave you credit for. You always find a way to surprise me)
He didn't even hide the wand pattern from her like Etienne had, and Ginny memorised each tap on the glass that he made - autumnal tree, pond, sun, bird, sun, rose bush - even as she knew this was a test that she had to pass. Jacques would be keeping a careful eye on when the entrance to his secret workspace was unlocked, and she couldn't rouse his suspicion if she wanted to live.
The glass disappeared, light spilling into the office, and Jacques guided her over the threshold.
A new fear suddenly took hold. What if it wasn't a test of her loyalty to him but a way to torture her? What if Claudia had recognised her and she'd just willingly walked into the same room where countless others had probably been tortured and killed?
"Ah, tu trembles. Il fait très froid dans cette pièce, belle, même avec le feu. Je vais te chercher ma robe, un instant. Ici, asseyez-vous et réchauffez-vous," Jacques said, guiding her to his desk near the fireplace and sitting her on the chair. (Ah, you are shaking. It is very cold in this room, beautiful, even with the fire. I will get my robe for you, one moment. Here, sit and get warm.)
Okay, if he was going to torture her, he was being oddly kind in preparation for it.
Amelie sat on the chair and warmed herself in front of the fireplace, a potion bubbling away in the large cauldron (not the size 85 cauldron, some part of her thought, almost hysterically, and Ginny forced herself to breathe and stay calm). Curiosity overcame her - Amelie was curious by nature, after all - and she couldn't stop herself from looking at the parchments that littered Jacques' desk. Any warmth she'd gained from sitting by the fireplace seeped out of her as she read the notes and parchments. The handwriting was Jacques', but the work belonged to none other than Etienne.
It was the very work she'd destroyed before bringing Avenir down last time, the work to destroy Muggleborns, and even Etienne's notes for the potion to bring Voldemort back to life! He hadn't even shared that plan with Jacques when he'd been alive; how did Jacques have it now?
This time, even Ginevra struggled to keep the feeling of nausea down and her expression neutral.
"J'aurais dû deviner que tu lisais au lieu de rester au chaud," Jacques tutted, returning with his robe. (I should have guessed you would be reading instead of staying warm.)
He tucked it around her shoulders carefully, buttoning the top button before giving Amelie a smile. It was one that conveyed as much warmth as he could, which wasn't much at all given his personality, and Ginny knew that this was the test after all. She hadn't been given any of this information back when Etienne was still alive, as the older man was paranoid and hardly told Jacques of his plans, so this information was supposed to be brand new to her. Not only was it meant to be new, it conveyed plans that went far beyond what she'd ever known of Project Serpent the last time she'd worked at Avenir. If she showed a hint of recognition or disgust, she'd never see the inside of this workspace ever again. Unless, of course, she was being tortured here.
"C'est tout le travail d'Etienne, recréé à partir de ses Pensines et de son bureau à domicile. Il est plus petit qu'avant, mais il est tout aussi fort. Je l'ai reconstruit, encore plus fort que ce que nous faisions avant! Ce sera bientôt complet, belle," Jacques said, a deranged passion in his eyes as he saw a future in his mind that Ginny wanted no part of. (It is all of Etienne's work, recreated from his Pensieves and home office. It is smaller than it was before, but it's just as strong. I have built it back up, even stronger than what we were doing before! It will soon be complete, beautiful.)
Amelie, however, was the woman who had power Jacques coveted and craved for himself, the one who'd shown her own distaste for Muggles on their date at the circus, the one who'd spent the last two years being tortured by their supposed enemy for information and spells, and Amelie loved and adored the man across from her as much as he loved her.
"Est-ce que ça marchera vraiment, Jacques? Pouvez-vous ramener le Seigneur des Ténèbres? Puis-je vous aider?" she asked eagerly, eyes wide. (Will it really work, Jacques? Can you bring the Dark Lord back? Can I help you?)
Jacques smiled at her once more, but this time, there was no hint of love in his expression. "J'espérais que tu dirais ça, belle. Il faut une femme pour terminer la potion; elle a un morceau de l'âme de Voldemort en elle, et nous devons la retrouver. Elle était en Angleterre, mais elle a disparu depuis un certain temps, et même pas... notre messager peut savoir où elle est partie," he said, annoyance and distaste written across his every feature. (I hoped you would say that, beautiful. There is a woman needed to complete the potion; she has a piece of Voldemort's soul in her, and we need to find her. She was in England, but she has been missing for some time, and not even... our messenger can find out where she's gone.)
A feeling of foreboding filled Ginny and she couldn't bring herself to say anything, a cold shiver running through her blood.
Thankfully, Jacques seemed too caught up in his own speech to notice and continued, "Je sais que cela fait longtemps que tu n'as pas travaillé sur des sorts aussi complexes, mais je pense que tu es prête pour ce défi, belle. Le sort de localisation pour les horloges fonctionnera, et grâce à notre messager, nous avons même ses cheveux." (I know it has been a long time since you have worked on such intricate spells, but I think you are ready for this challenge, beautiful. The location spell for clocks will work, and thanks to our messenger, we even have her hair.)
Jacques tapped his wand to a brick, tugging it out gently to reveal a hollow cavity. He reached in and pulled out a corked vial. Inside the vial were several strands of red hair.
Weasley-red hair, in fact. He was looking for her, Ginny realised, her blood running cold.
Before she could respond, there was a rapid beeping sound and flashing red light from the fireplace, far too bright to be flames. Jacques' eyes widened and he looked back out to his main office. Ginny followed his gaze and saw the domed clock was no longer a clock, but a view to the French school she'd seen only days ago.
"Je dois y aller. Je serai de retour à temps pour la fête surprise, belle," Jacques promised, throwing a handful of Floo powder into the flames and leaving without waiting for a response. (I need to go. I'll be back in time for the surprise party, beautiful.)
Left behind, Ginny swallowed hard. What had happened at the school? What if something terrible had gone wrong? Was Susan all right? Were the children all right? Who had been in charge of the rescue mission, and what the hell had happened there?
...
Dennis had been talking to Susan when she'd disappeared. He'd been so relieved that she'd been saved that he hadn't even cared that the kids were asking a million questions about his scars and tugging on his hands and robes.
The second Susan disappeared stretched out for what felt like infinity, even as he reached out to grab her before she could go. Susan's eyes were wide, fear etched in every feature, even as she mouthed 'help' or 'no' or 'fucking hell', and she disappeared.
The children's screams of surprise and fear brought him back into the moment and Dennis' wand slipped into his hand, a spell performed silently to track the magical signature Susan had left behind. It was faint and fading, but it was enough for him to latch on to and follow. He knew that he couldn't wait a second longer or stay to explain what had happened to Draco and Blaise. Dennis refused to let Skeleton disappear from his grasp yet again, and he Disapparated right as Draco ran outside and Blaise hurried out of the tent, children's worried voices following after him following after Susan.
Dennis righted himself as he landed, frowning as he recognised the landscape around him. He hadn't gone with Draco and Blaise to escort the children, certain that they'd be terrified of him and refuse to leave the school, but he had seen the French school's building and the landscape through the fireplace. Through the window, he'd seen trees and a field that still had purple paint on the grass. That paint-splattered field met him now, and Dennis looked over to see Susan in front of the school, looking shell-shocked.
"Are you all right?" he asked, heading over to her, his wand still drawn.
Susan let out a soft gasp, tears in her eyes. "I wasn't sure anyone would know where I went! I don't know what happened! One moment I was talking to you, the next I was right back here. I don't... I don't know what's going on," she said, her voice trembling.
"We'll find out. I've got some Floo powder, let's get back to the camp."
Susan's eyes widened. "The children must be so worried!"
Dennis nodded like he gave a solitary shit about them, then led Susan back inside to the fireplace. It lit up in blue flames, though flickered violently with an unstable connection. It wouldn't be a pleasant trip, but it would be enough to get through. Susan stepped into the blue flames, Dennis determined to follow and get her to safety himself. He was about to join her in the flames when he heard a distinct Apparation sound outside. It wasn't Draco and Blaise - they knew better than to Apparate with a sound like amateurs - and Dennis knew it was probably the bastard that had kept Skeleton here and erased her memories. Thinking of the destination clearly, Dennis watched as Susan disappeared from sight once more.
Now that she was safe - or at least on her way to it - he could focus on the threat that was entering the room behind him. Turning to face Jacques, Dennis hexed first; he'd ask questions later.
Jacques dodged the hex and hid behind the doorway, obscuring himself from Dennis' sight. "Je vous reconnais d'après nos disques de sécurité. Vous posiez des questions juste après que Susan ait rejoint notre groupe, n'est-ce pas? Vous avez un visage mémorable, ne vous sentez pas flatté, homme marqué." (I recognise you from our security discs. You were asking questions right after Susan joined our group, weren't you? You've got a memorable face, don't feel flattered, scarred man.)
Dennis ignored him, hiding behind the dining table and wondering if he could get into the Floo network before Jacques hexed it into toothpicks. Sending a flurry of hexes towards the doorway, he heard a hiss from the other wizard and hoped the painful ones had hit.
"Comment saviez-vous que Sophie était là?" Jacques asked curiously. (How did you know Sophie was here?)
"Ne devrais-tu pas être plus inquiet de savoir où elle est partie?" Dennis snapped, sending another volley of hexes towards the doorway and Jacques. (Shouldn't you be more worried about where she's gone?)
There was another hiss, bitten off and pained.
"Cela n'a pas d'importance; elle sera de retour bien assez tôt, homme balafré." (That doesn't matter; she'll be back soon enough, scarred man.)
Dennis didn't get a chance to question or even focus on Jacques' response because the wizard sent his own volley of hexes at him, and Dennis had to focus on not being hit. Most landed wide, thankfully, but one sizzled into the floor beside him. Literally, in fact, and he didn't dare contemplate what it would feel like if that hex hit his limbs.
Glancing over to the doorway, he saw Jacques peek around the corner and sent a direct hex at the bastard's forehead. He ducked out of the way, back further behind the safety of the wall, and that's exactly where Dennis wanted him. With Jacques hiding out of sight, he quietly made his way to the other side of the room. An old armchair was all the protection he had, and Dennis hoped it would be enough for what he had planned.
It didn't take long for Jacques to return to the doorway's edge. Where other wizards would Disapparate to safety, Dennis knew that Jacques wouldn't back down from the opportunity to capture and torture him for answers. He stayed silent behind the old ratty armchair and waited for Jacques to send a hex at his former hiding place. When he did that, his arm would be exposed, and Dennis could sever the bloody thing at the elbow if he timed it right.
There was another sound from outside, and Dennis frowned as he recognised it as a Portkey arriving.
"Ah, pile à l'heure. Bonjour Sophie!" Jacques called, his voice mocking and cruel. (Ah, right on time. Hello Sophie!)
"J-Jacques? Que faites-vous ici? Ce n'est... pas l'heure de notre rendez-vous; je t'attendais lundi," Susan said, clearly trying to lie, even as she stayed at the school's entrance and didn't plan on taking a step further. (J-Jacques? What are you doing here? It's... not time for our meeting; I was expecting you on Monday.)
Jacques glared and flicked his wand at her. Susan flew into the school, her toes dragging along the carpet, and she cried out in surprise, even as she tried to get her own wand out or to grab something to stop herself. She came to a sudden stop and Jacques grabbed her around the wrist, fingers digging into flesh.
"Aïe! Jacques, ça fait mal!" (Ow! Jacques, that hurts!)
"Tu es tellement plus faible qu'avant," Jacques snarled, disappointed and disgusted all at once. (You're so much weaker than before.) "J'ai arraché les dents de Susan une par une et elle m'a juste souri." (I ripped Susan's teeth out one by one and she just smiled at me.)
Susan blanched and tried to step back, struggling in his grip. "Lâche-moi, Jacques! Lâcher!" (Let go of me, Jacques! Let go!)
"Pas jusqu'à ce que ton ami se rende," Jacques snapped, dragging Susan until she was held in front of him like a shield. (Not until your friend surrenders.) "Sortez maintenant ou je la tue!" he said, his wand pressed against Susan's throat. (Come out now or I'll kill her!)
Dennis watched and waited patiently. Jacques wasn't desperate and while he probably wasn't bluffing about hurting Susan, there was no reason for him to do anything stupid like that. Not yet, at least.
Jacques stepped into the open doorway, Susan still held in front of him. "Vous n'avez pas d'autre choix si vous voulez qu'elle vive. Abandonnez-vous, homme balafré." (You have no other choice if you want her to live. Hand yourself over, scarred man.)
Dennis considered his options: hand himself over and be tortured; fight Jacques and possibly get Susan hurt or killed in the crossfire; or... what else? Was there a third option? The thought of Disapparating crossed his mind briefly, but he dismissed it in the same instant. He refused to run; not only was it against his very nature, but who knew where Jacques would take Susan? He hadn't spent all of this time trying to find her, only to lose her again now!
"Ne me fais pas attendre, homme balafré. Je ne suis pas connu pour ma patience," Jacques snapped. (Don't keep me waiting, scarred man. I am not known for my patience.)
Another option formed in Dennis' mind. He took a single second to analyse it, compare it to his other options, and then decide upon it as his only course of action. The next second had him standing, his wand pointed squarely at Jacques and Susan. He didn't have a clean shot for Jacques and didn't want to risk screwing this up. Unlike Jacques, Dennis could be patient.
Jacques turned to face him, surprised by his appearance by the armchair rather than the table, but simply dug his wand into Susan's neck more firmly until she gasped in pain. "Bonne décision, homme balafré. Maintenant, lâche ta baguette." (Good decision, scarred man. Now, drop your wand.)
Light shot out of Dennis' wand, the spell silent, and he immediately dropped back behind the armchair to protect himself. Jacques moved Susan directly into the line of the spell, protecting himself as well, and she fell limp in his arms, a dead weight.
Jacques' eyes widened and then he grinned at Dennis triumphantly, throwing Susan's body to the side. "Tu vois ce que tu as fait, homme balafré? Sa mort est entre vos mains!" (You see what you've done, scarred man? Her death is on your hands!)
Dennis shut his eyes tightly and clutched his wand even tighter. Getting rid of the hostage was the only solution that left Jacques open, and getting Jacques locked away in Cloffice and keeping the world safe was even more important than Susan's life or even his own. If he survived, he'd forgive himself for this eventually if he succeeded in his mission.
...
End of the forty-ninth chapter.
Thanks for reading; I hope you liked it.
Author's note: There's only two more chapters left!