The Pact

When Hannah wakes me up, she’s surprised to see me actually starting to get ready with them. The relief on her face makes me smile.

“Going to classes today?”

I shrug, pulling my hair back. “I don’t know yet. But I’m at least going to eat.”

She gives me a small half smile. “I’ll take that.”

We head down to the Great Hall together, and my heart jumps when we push through the doors.

“Aurélien?”

He turns to look at me, his curls catching the light. “Hi, mon soleil.”

I sit down next to him and he wraps a comforting arm around my shoulders. “You’re still here? I thought you had to leave last night.”

Aurélien smirks, making my plate up for me. “I may have pulled some strings. Besides, Beauxbatons can survive without my charms for one day.”

I huff a quiet laugh, shaking my head. “You’re impossible.”

“You love it,” he teases, placing a piece of toast on my plate.

I roll my eyes but don’t argue, taking a small bite of the food he so dramatically arranged for me. He watches expectantly until I swallow, satisfied only when I reach for another bite without prompting.

Hannah nudges me with her elbow. “You going to talk to them today?”

I hesitate, my body tensing ever so slightly. I can feel the trio’s eyes on me from across the hall, and Draco—well, he hasn’t stopped looking at me since I sat down.

“Yeah,” I say finally. “I’m going to ask to meet them in the Room of Requirement later.”

Aurélien hums beside me, casual, but I know him too well to miss the slight tensing of his posture. “And I’m coming with you.”

It’s not a question.

I glance up at him, his green eyes steady and unreadable. He’s already made up his mind, and honestly, I don’t want to go alone.

“Okay,” I say softly. “You’re coming with me.”

Aurélien’s lips twitch like he’s trying not to look too smug, but I don’t call him out on it.

Hannah sighs in relief. “Good. Now eat, both of you.”

I shake my head but do as she says, because for the first time in days, I actually feel like I can.

I feel more steady with Aurélien by my side, though I decide not to go to my classes for one more day. I can’t concentrate anyway, so it would be a waste of everyone’s time.

Hannah doesn’t push me, which is all I can ask for. I simply lead Aurélien to the Room of Requirement and we spend our time catching up and reading together.

“So,” he says quietly, lounging on the sofa, “when are you going to call your friends to come meet you here?”

I swallow, looking down at my tap bracelet. “I don’t know yet. Eventually. Maybe when classes are out for the day.”

His eyes soften as he looks at me. “It’s okay to be nervous, but they’re still your friends. I don’t think anything bad will come out of just talking to them.”

I sigh, running my fingers along the bracelet, tracing the familiar grooves of the metal. “I know. It’s just… I don’t know how to face them yet. I feel like everything’s changed.”

Aurélien watches me for a moment, then sits up, resting his elbows on his knees. “Then we take it slow. You call them when you’re ready. No rush, mon amour.”

His words soothe me, and I let out a slow breath, nodding. “Yeah. No rush.”

But the universe seems to have other plans.

The door to the Room of Requirement scrapes open, and I snap my head up just in time to see Harry, Hermione, Ron, and Draco stepping inside.

I stiffen, gripping the edge of my sleeve. “I didn’t—how did you—”

“Harry saw you on his map,” Ron says, shoving his hands into his pockets. He shifts awkwardly, his expression uncertain. “We figured we’d find you here.”

I turn to Harry, who gives me an apologetic look. “You weren’t talking to us. What were we supposed to do?”

“Wait until I was ready,” I reply, though there’s no real bite behind my words. I’m too exhausted for that.

Aurélien tenses beside me, his arm resting along the back of the sofa like a silent barrier. “Maybe she wasn’t ready to see you yet,” he says coolly, his sharp gaze settling on Draco, who meets it with an unreadable expression.

Draco doesn’t speak. His stormy eyes are locked on me, searching, aching.

Hermione takes a cautious step forward, her voice gentle. “We just… we wanted to make sure you were okay.”

I swallow hard, glancing at Aurélien. He gives me a barely perceptible nod—an unspoken reassurance that he’s here, that I don’t have to do this alone.

I inhale deeply, steadying myself. “Alright,” I say, my voice quieter than I intend. “I’m fine.”

Draco steps forward first, seeming relieved. His lips turn up into a soft smirk. “Well, don’t look so happy to see me,” he teases gently, sitting next to me.

His face falls when I move away from him, closer to Aurélien.

“Still mad,” he says flatly, looking away. “Got it.”

Harry sighs, crossing his arms. “Look, Y/n, I know you’re upset. But we didn’t find out because Draco was trying to hurt you. He told us because we needed to know.”

I let out a sharp breath, shaking my head. “Needed to know?” My voice wavers between anger and exhaustion. “It wasn’t his story to tell.”

Ron shifts uncomfortably, glancing at Draco, who’s still staring at the floor. “Maybe not. But it’s not like you were gonna tell us.”

I flinch at the truth in his words.

Aurélien tenses beside me. “She didn’t have to,” he says coolly. “She’s allowed to have things she keeps to herself. You lot just decided to take that choice away from her.”

Draco’s jaw tightens. “It wasn’t like that.” He finally looks up, his grey eyes stormy with emotion. “You weren’t there, Aurélien. You don’t know what she went through after—”

“I don’t know?” Aurélien interrupts, his voice deadly quiet. “I was the one who held her together when she couldn’t even say the words out loud.”

The room feels like it shrinks around us, the tension thick enough to suffocate.

Hermione steps in, her voice gentle but firm. “We didn’t come here to fight.” She looks at me, her expression pleading. “Y/n, please. We’re sorry if we made you feel like we betrayed you. That’s not what we wanted.”

I swallow past the lump in my throat, my fingers twisting in my sleeves. “I just… I don’t know how to come back from this.” My voice is barely above a whisper.

Draco’s face flickers with something I can’t quite place. “Then tell us what you need,” he says quietly. “Tell me what you need.”

I want to. I really do. But the words get stuck in my throat.

Aurélien squeezes my hand. “You don’t have to decide right now,” he murmurs. “You’re allowed to take your time.”

I nod slowly, exhaling shakily. “I just… I need space. But I also—” I hesitate, finally meeting Draco’s eyes. “I need to know I can trust you again.”

Draco’s face softens, and for the first time since they walked in, the ache in his gaze turns into something else. Determination.

“Then I’ll earn it back,” he says simply.

“Good luck with that,” Aurélien mutters under his breath, his jaw clenching.

He knows how much it takes for me to trust someone. Draco might not. He’s always seen me as blindly trusting, too much for my own good, even. He doesn’t know how much I had to change to get there.

Ron’s face screws up into what is supposed to be a smile but seems more like a fearful grimace than anything as he holds out his hand. “Here. For you.”

I furrow my brow and take the small wrapped something out of his hand, opening it to reveal a brownie.

He smiles shyly. “I know how much you like sweets, so I convinced one of the house elves to make a batch for you.”

“Thank you,” I reply genuinely, smiling despite myself. “That’s actually really thoughtful.”

Ron looks relieved, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah, well. Figured if I couldn’t fix things, I could at least bribe you with chocolate.”

Hermione rolls her eyes, though she’s smiling. “It’s not a bribe, Ron.”

I take a small bite of the brownie, the rich sweetness grounding me more than I expected. “It’s working, though.”

The tension eases just a little, but it doesn’t last.

Harry leans forward, resting his arms on his knees. “So… the Conseil.” His gaze sharpens. “You’re still planning to go, right?”

I stiffen, placing the brownie down on the table beside me. “Of course.”

Hermione glances at Draco before speaking carefully. “And what’s the plan?”

I exhale through my nose. “You guys still aren’t coming. I meant that.”

Harry frowns. “Y/n, you can’t do this alone.”

“Says who?” I fire back.

“Common sense,” Draco retorts. “You have no idea what you’re up against. You need backup.”

I scoff. “I can handle my own.”

“It’s not safe,” Hermione pleads. “Please let us go with you.”

I cross my arms. “No.”

A heavy silence hangs over us until Aurélien clears his throat. “I’ll go.”

Everyone turns to look at him, myself included. “You’d do that?”

Draco rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed. Aurélien ignores him. “Of course I would. I’d do anything for you.”

I nod, turning back to Draco. “There. I’ll take Aury. Happy now?”

“Ecstatic,” he says dryly, staring daggers at Aurélien.

“Don’t start,” I snap.

Draco’s eyes flick back to mine, stormy and unreadable. “You really trust him that much?”

I blink, taken aback by the bitterness in his tone. “Of course, I do.”

His lips press into a thin line. “More than us?”

I hesitate—just for a second—but it’s enough. Draco scoffs, shaking his head. “Unbelievable.”

I glare at him. “Draco, this isn’t about you.”

He lets out a humorless laugh. “Isn’t it? Because from where I’m standing, it sure as hell seems like you’re taking him to get back at me.”

Aurélien tilts his head, ever so smug. “She trusts me because I don’t betray her.”

Draco’s hands curl into fists. “I made a mistake.”

I cross my arms, feeling the heat rise to my face. “A mistake? You think what you did was just a mistake? You told them everything, Draco! You didn’t even ask!”

His expression hardens. “I was trying to help you.”

“Well, you didn’t,” I snap, voice sharp. “You just made everything worse.”

Draco flinches, just barely. “Right. Of course. Because I’m the villain here.”

I exhale harshly, dragging a hand down my face. “I never said that.”

“You didn’t have to.” His voice is quiet now, restrained. “I get it.”

The room is deathly silent. No one moves.

I stand and Draco follows suit until we’re facing each other. Harry grips his wand as if he’s waiting to intervene.

“You’re being ridiculous,” I spit. “Stop putting words in my mouth.”

He laughs mirthlessly. “Clearly I don’t have to. That’s what you think, isn’t it? This is all my fault. And I’m some terrible person because I told your friends about something important because you refused to.”

“Why do you think I refused to, Draco?” I bite back. “Did you stop and think that maybe there’s a reason?”

His eyes narrow. “Whatever it is, it’s not good enough. They had to know. Otherwise, they can’t fully grasp what’s going on!”

“I didn’t want them to! Even knowing puts them at risk. Don’t you understand that?”

“We’re already at risk,” he says, dropping his voice.

I throw my hands in the air in exasperation. “You don’t get it, do you? You’re so caught up in yourself you didn’t even stop to think that maybe if Voldemort finds out I’ve been spreading their business it won’t end well for any of us. He kills anyone who gets in the way of his plans, and if—Merlin forbid—he were to use legilimency on any of them, our entire operation would be ruined! He’d kill all of them and you and Aury and probably anyone who’s ever been associated with me!”

Draco’s expression flickers—just for a moment—with something unreadable. Then his jaw tightens, and he takes a step closer, voice low and sharp. “You think I don’t know that?”

I hold my ground, glaring up at him. “If you do then why did you do it?”

“Because you won’t let anyone in!” he snaps. “You push everyone away and act like you have to do this alone, like you’re the only one who can handle it! Well, guess what? You can’t! And I’m not going to stand here and pretend that’s fine when it’s not!”

The anger in his voice sends a pang through my chest, because beneath it, there’s something else. Frustration. Desperation.

Fear.

I shake my head. “I never asked you to stand here, Draco.”

His face falls, just barely. “No,” he mutters, eyes dark. “I suppose you didn’t.”

A heavy silence stretches between us. I can feel everyone watching, but I don’t dare look away from him. His shoulders rise and fall with heavy breaths, his fists still clenched at his sides.

Harry finally cuts through the tension. “Y/n, you need to calm down. We need him here.”

I scoff. “Need him? You three have been doing this by yourselves for years and now you have me. What do you need from an extra person?”

“He keeps your head on straight,” Harry says flatly. “You’re a loose canon. Usually you two are so in sync. What’s going on with you?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “The hell is that supposed to mean? Loose canon?”

“It means you’re the most impulsive, self destructive Hufflepuff I’ve ever met. I honestly don’t know how you got sorted there. You should’ve been in Slytherin,” he says, exasperated.

I laugh, though it’s not lighthearted. “Don’t even. I’m not a snake.”

“Wow,” Draco drawls, nodding. “Think that highly of me, do you?”

I whip my head back to him, heart hammering. “That’s not what I meant.”

Draco raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms. “No? Because it sure sounded like it.”

I grit my teeth. “I don’t think less of you because you’re a Slytherin, Draco. You know that.”

“Do I?” he shoots back. “Because from where I’m standing, it seems like you’ve decided I’m the enemy again. And I’d really love to know why.”

“You told them!” I snap, throwing my hands up. “What don’t you understand? You took something that wasn’t yours to share and handed it over without a second thought!”

His eyes flash. “It was mine to share! You’re not the only one caught up in this, Y/n. If something happens to you, it happens to me too. Or did you forget that little detail?”

I freeze.

The blood pact.

Draco watches me, his expression carefully blank now, but his fists are still curled at his sides. “Right,” he mutters when I don’t respond. “I figured as much.”

Aurélien clears his throat, shifting beside me. “Maybe we should all take a step back.”

“Yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Draco sneers, turning his glare onto him instead. “Must be easy, sweeping in like the hero while the rest of us are left dealing with her mess.”

Aurélien straightens, his easygoing nature vanishing in an instant. “Careful.”

Draco scoffs. “Or what?”

I step between them before this can spiral even further. “Enough,” I say, my voice firm. “I’m not doing this right now.”

Draco shakes his head, eyes still burning into mine. “No, of course not. Because you never do anything unless it’s on your terms, do you?”

“Oh, piss off, Malfoy,” I sneer, hurling his last name at him like an insult. It seems to hit him like one. “You have to stop whirling on Aurélien like you’re going to hex him. Get over your jealousy, already! We’re not even dating!”

Draco stops for a moment, seeming taken aback before a cool mask slips back onto his face. “Right. I remember. No label. Since you clearly wanted to keep your options open.”

“This isn’t—” Hermione starts, but I talk over her.

“Excuse me?” I ask, incredulously. “What the hell are you implying?”

He crosses his arms over his chest defiantly. “I don’t have to imply anything. It’s clear you wanted to be able to just run off into the sunset with your little French show pony whenever you felt so inclined.”

“That’s not true and you know it,” I sneer. “Everyone here knows it. I wasn’t interested in Aurélien. I was interested in you!”

The room falls deathly silent once more, with Aurélien trying to hide his hurt and Draco’s cool mask slips into something wounded, something crestfallen. “Was?”

I pause, realizing what I said, but I double down. “Yeah, was. I don’t know what the hell is going on with you, but right now, you’re not the person I fell in love with. You’re not even the person I wanted to be friends with. I barely recognize you. It was supposed to be us against the world, remember? No matter what, I was supposed to have you! I was supposed to be able to trust you! And now—”

“You’re in love with me?”

The words hang in the air, suffocating and inescapable.

Draco’s voice is different now—hoarse, raw, disbelieving. His stormy eyes, wide and vulnerable, search mine like he’s trying to confirm that he heard me right.

I swallow hard, pulse hammering against my ribs. There’s no taking it back now.

Aurélien shifts beside me, jaw tense, but he stays quiet. Hermione’s lips are slightly parted like she wants to say something, but even she knows this isn’t her moment to interfere. Harry and Ron exchange awkward glances, shifting uncomfortably.

But Draco… Draco just stands there, stunned.

I lift my chin, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “Yeah,” I say, voice quieter now but no less firm. “I was.”

He exhales sharply, like the wind’s been knocked out of him. His hands twitch at his sides, like he wants to reach for me, but something holds him back.

“You—” He stops, shakes his head, exhales again. “You never said anything.”

I laugh, but there’s no humor in it. “Would it have made a difference? You were too busy ‘dealing with my mess,’ deciding what was best for me, breaking my trust over and over again—” My throat tightens, but I push through it. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter now.”

Draco flinches like I’ve struck him. “It does matter,” he says, low and desperate.

“Why?” I challenge. “So you can have the satisfaction of knowing? So you can keep playing whatever game you’ve decided this is?”

His face twists. “You think this is a game to me?”

“What else am I supposed to think?” I snap. “You don’t—” I cut myself off, inhaling sharply before shaking my head. “You don’t get to be angry that I didn’t tell you. You don’t get to be mad that I wanted you and you made me feel like I can’t even trust my own feelings. My own instincts.”

Draco’s breathing is uneven now, his hands in his hair like he’s trying to hold himself together. “That’s not— I never—” He stops himself, swallowing hard.

I shake my head again, stepping back. “I can’t do this right now.”

Tears well up in my eyes and he notices, reaching forward reflexively, but I pull back and look away. I can’t bear to see his face right now, and if he touches me, I know I’ll crumble.

Draco’s expression falls just a little, but he nods stiffly, jaw clenching. “Fine.”

The weight of the conversation presses down on all of us. No one moves.

Then, without another word, Draco turns on his heel and walks out of the Room of Requirement.

And this time, it’s me who doesn’t stop him.

We all stand in stunned silence for a while before I turn around to see my friends staring at me.

“I can’t stand him,” I mutter, pushing my hair out of my face. “He just makes me so… so angry.”

Hermione gives me a worried look. “Then why are you crying?”

I freeze.

My hand flies to my face, and sure enough, my cheeks are wet. I hadn’t even realized.

Aurélien shifts beside me, his warmth grounding, but I can’t bring myself to look at him. Or at Harry. Or Ron. Or Hermione, who’s watching me with that sharp, knowing gaze that makes me feel like I’m being read like an open book.

I shake my head, quickly swiping at my tears. “I don’t know,” I whisper, but that’s a lie.

Of course, I know.

Because no matter how furious he makes me, no matter how much he’s hurt me, no matter how much I try to push him away—

I still love him.

And that realization makes my stomach twist into knots.

Aurélien exhales softly. “Mon soleil…” His voice is gentle, hesitant, as if he’s trying to decide whether or not to reach for me.

I don’t give him the chance. I step away, wrapping my arms around myself. “It doesn’t matter.” My voice is steadier this time, even if I don’t feel it. “He’s made his choices. And I’ve made mine.”

Hermione doesn’t look convinced. “Y/n…”

But I shake my head. “It’s not important. I’m going to the Conseil Friday evening to claim my seat. We’ll debrief then.”

No one stops me as I walk toward the door. The trio stay put, with Aurélien tailing close behind, not saying a word.

Because really, what could he say?

~

When I get to the Room of Requirement, the trio is waiting for me, but there’s no sign of Draco. Which is pretty much what I expected, to be honest.

“Okay,” Hermione starts, “you promise you’ll let us know if something goes wrong?”

I nod my head, pulling out the token from my back pocket. “I’ll write to you and come straight back. Either that or I’ll have you join me.”

Harry steps forward, looking nervous. “And Aurélien is meeting you there?”

“Yes,” I reply confidently. “We’re meeting at his uncle’s shop first, then we’ll head out to the Conseil.”

“Just be careful,” Ron mutters, wringing his hands together. “You sure we can’t come?”

I shoot him a slightly apologetic look. “I’m sure.”

Looking at their worried faces makes me feel a little guilty for the way I’ve been acting towards them. I hug each of them in a row, lingering in Harry’s protective, terrified embrace.

“You guys act like I’m walking off to war,” I joke. “I’m just going to a government building. It’s probably safer than anywhere else.”

Harry doesn’t seem amused. “That’s what we thought about the ministry, but… you know.”

I smile softly at him. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

As I turn to the floo, Hermione calls my attention once more. “Should we get Draco? He should be here.”

I grab a handful of the powder and shake my head. “No. If he wanted to be here, he would’ve. And to be quite honest, I can’t deal with his brooding right now. Makes it hard to focus.”

Hermione frowns but doesn’t argue. She knows better than to push me when I’ve made up my mind.

Harry crosses his arms, looking displeased. “Still think you two should talk before you leave.”

I throw the floo powder into the flames, watching them flare green. “Well, he had his chance.”

The words taste bitter as I step into the fire and call out, “Le Bijou Caché!”

The last thing I see before the world spins is Hermione’s worried expression and Ron’s grimace. And then, I’m gone.

I stumble out of the fireplace into the shop, brushing soot off my coat as I regain my balance. The air smells faintly of sandalwood and jasmine, the familiar scent grounding me.

Aurélien is already waiting for me, leaning against the doorway with his arms crossed. He straightens when he sees me, eyes scanning me as if checking for any last-minute hesitation. “Ça va?”

I nod. “I’m ready.”

His lips twitch into something small—half amusement, half reassurance—as he reaches into his coat pocket. “Then let’s make history, mon soleil.”

I take a steadying breath, my fingers tightening around my token. This is it.

Time to claim what’s mine.

We start to walk through the streets of Paris, my arm looped through Aury’s. “You look dashing, troubadour.”

He smirks. “Don’t I always?”

I roll my eyes and he chuckles. “You look wonderful too, mon étoile. Very sophisticated.”

“That’s the goal,” I reply, adjusting my robes. “I’ve gotta work extra hard to make sure they take me seriously.”

He nods, pulling me around a corner. “It’ll be fine. Great, even. I’ve never met anyone you couldn’t soften.”

That earns a small chuckle from me. “I’ll be sure to add that to my résumé.”

After turning the last corner, I swallow hard.

We’re in wizarding France, so everything is in plain sight. The huge marble building in front of me reads Conseil de Sorciers.

“Looks like we’re in the right place,” I muse, holding onto him a little tighter.

Aurélien squeezes my arm in silent support. “Bien sûr,” he murmurs. “Are you ready?”

I exhale slowly, straightening my posture. “I have to be.”

The Conseil de Sorciers is even more imposing up close—massive marble pillars stretch toward the sky, gleaming under the soft glow of enchanted lanterns. Wizards in elegant robes glide up the grand steps, some in deep discussion, others casting curious glances our way.

Aurélien leads me forward with ease, his presence grounding me. As we ascend the steps, I can’t help but feel the weight of what I’m about to do.

A pair of guards stand at the entrance, dressed in rich navy robes embroidered with silver detailing—the official colors of the Conseil. One of them steps forward, scrutinizing us. “State your name and purpose.”

I square my shoulders. “Y/n Lavigné. I’m here to claim my seats.”

The guards exchange a look before the one on the left pulls out a long scroll. His eyes flick over it before his brow raises slightly. “Lavigné…” He hums thoughtfully. “Your presence has been anticipated.”

My heartbeat stutters. Anticipated?

Aurélien shifts beside me. “Well, that’s not ominous.”

The guard steps aside, gesturing toward the grand doors behind him. “Proceed inside. The council is waiting.”

I glance at Aurélien, my pulse quickening. He gives me a small nod, offering his arm once more. “Allons-y,” he murmurs.

I take one last breath before stepping forward.

The doors creak open revealing a grand hallway, made completely out of the same white marble as the outside of the building. Large pillars seem to support the roof, with huge crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. A curved staircase lines one side of the room, the other lined with fireplaces—their floo system, I gather.

The hall is bustling with movement—witches and wizards in fine robes stride past with purpose, parchment tucked under their arms or floating beside them with the help of charmed quills. The air hums with quiet conversations, the occasional pop of the floo system signaling arrivals and departures.

Aurélien and I make our way to the grand mahogany desk at the front, where a stern-looking witch with sleek silver hair is meticulously recording names in a massive tome. She doesn’t look up as we approach.

“Name and purpose,” she intones, quill poised above the parchment.

I clear my throat. “Y/n Lavigné. I’m here to claim my father’s seat. My grandmother’s, too.”

The quill halts mid-stroke. Slowly, the witch lifts her gaze, studying me over the rim of her glasses. “Ah,” she murmurs, glancing at Aurélien briefly before returning her attention to me. “Yes, we’ve been expecting you.”

There it is again. Expecting me.

I tighten my grip on the token in my pocket. “I was under the impression that this would be more of a request,” I say carefully. “Not… a foregone conclusion.”

The witch’s lips twitch as if suppressing amusement. “The Council does not operate on requests, Mademoiselle Lavigné. If a seat is rightfully yours, you are expected to take it.”

Aurélien shifts beside me, his posture unusually rigid. “And who, exactly, is expecting her?”

The witch slides a separate piece of parchment toward me, ignoring his question. “Sign your name, and you will be escorted inside.”

I glance at Aurélien. His expression is unreadable, but I catch the way his fingers twitch slightly against his coat—like he’s resisting the urge to grab his wand.

I press my lips together and take the quill. With a steadying breath, I sign my name.

She nods and pulls the parchment back before gesturing to the right side of the room, calling over a plump man with a monocle and a walking stick. “Where to?” he asks, though the question is directed at the woman behind the desk.

“Council chambers. Hallway F. Head of Inductions.”

The plump man scrutinizes me through his monocle before nodding sharply. “Right, then. Follow me.”

Aurélien and I exchange a quick glance before stepping in line behind him. The sound of his walking stick echoes against the marble floors as we weave through the grand hall.

“Hallway F, Head of Inductions,” Aurélien murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear. “Sounds very official.”

Our guide doesn’t react, though I catch the amused flick of his monocle as if he heard anyway.

We turn a sharp corner into a quieter corridor. The noise from the main hall fades, replaced by the faint hum of enchanted sconces lining the walls. Large oak doors with golden plaques mark each section—Comptes Financiers, Magie Ancestrale, Lois et Décrets. But when we stop in front of Inductions, my stomach tightens.

The plump man raps his walking stick against the door. “She’s here.”

A brief pause. Then—“Entrez.”

The doors swing open on their own.

Aurélien squeezes my arm once before we step inside.