Rescue the Delacour sisters
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"I'm here to ask for help," Madame Maxime said urgently, her towering frame trembling with barely contained emotion.
Her large eyes glistened with tears.
"Two of my students are missing in the chaos, sir. I begged the other Aurors for help, but they all say you're the best tracker. Can you help me? Please, help me!"
"I can't leave!" Ethan replied, his voice firm.
"There are so many children here that still need my protection!"
Madame Maxime clasped her hands together, her expression desperate.
"Please," she pleaded, her voice cracking under the weight of her worry.
Ethan hesitated for only a moment before nodding.
"Okay. I'll do everything I can."
"They're Fleur Delacour and Gabrielle Delacour," Madame Maxime said hurriedly.
"Poor Fleur must be trying to protect her sister—"
Her voice faltered as tears brimmed anew in her eyes.
"Madame, please, calm yourself," Ethan said gently, attempting to steady her fraying nerves.
"Do you have any personal items of theirs? It will greatly aid my search."
"Ah! Yes, of course!"
She fumbled in her pocket and produced two small hats, handing them to Ethan with trembling hands.
"This is what they usually wear," she explained, her voice thick with emotion.
Tears threatened again, her composure slipping.
Ethan took the hats and brought them to his nose, inhaling deeply.
A faint floral fragrance lingered on the fabric.
Perfume, he noted. Distinct and unique.
Focusing, Ethan let his heightened witcher senses take over. The scent, though faint, was traceable.
He followed its delicate trail through the camp, weaving past scattered debris and charred remains of tents.
The scent grew stronger, leading him to a dilapidated tent, its fabric scorched and sagging. The aroma lingered here, unmistakable and clear.
Ethan approached cautiously and lifted the tattered curtain.
A sudden flash of light erupted from inside—the sharp crack of a spell barely missing him as he ducked just in time.
"Who are you? Stay back, or I'll curse you!" a young girl's voice rang out, trembling with fear.
Her English carried a distinct French lilt. Though she tried to sound brave, the panic in her tone was evident.
From inside, Ethan caught the faint, muffled sobs of a younger child.
"I'm an Auror from the Ministry of Magic," Ethan said, keeping his voice steady and calm.
"Your headmistress, Madame Maxime, sent me to find you. You're safe now. Please, come out."
"Is it true?" the older girl's voice wavered, still skeptical.
"Yes," Ethan assured her.
"Madame Maxime is waiting for you. She's worried sick."
There was a pause, followed by the soft rustling of fabric. Slowly, the tent's curtain was pulled aside.
A girl with striking azure-blue eyes and long, cascading silver hair cautiously poked her head out of the tent.
Though her face was smeared with dirt, it did little to obscure her delicate features.
The moment she spotted Ethan, her gaze locked onto his amber, cat-like eyes, and she froze in shock.
"Ah!" she screamed, retreating instantly back into the tent.
A flurry of chaotic spells erupted from within, shooting wildly in Ethan's direction.
The attacks were so haphazard that they posed no real threat, but Ethan still stepped aside, watching the scene unfold with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.
"You liar! You're a bad wizard!" the girl yelled from behind the tent's flimsy fabric.
"And why do you say that?" Ethan asked, his tone a blend of patience and weariness.
It was obvious the girl had been deeply shaken by the Death Eaters' chaos and was now overly suspicious.
"Your eyes!" she shouted.
"Please leave! Our headmistress will come for us soon, and she's very powerful!"
The girl's voice carried an edge of defiance, though Ethan could hear the tremble of fear beneath it.
Ethan sighed. "How can you tell if someone is good or bad just by their eyes?"
There was a pause, followed by the muffled sound of the girl thinking aloud.
She seemed to realize that her logic was flawed.
"Well... maybe I was wrong," she admitted reluctantly.
"But if you're really here to help, throw your wand into the tent. I can't take any risks!"
Ethan raised a brow but complied, tossing his wand inside.
"Happy now?"
The tent fell silent for a few moments before the girl reappeared, stepping cautiously outside.
Beside her was a smaller girl who looked like her mirror image—a doll-like child with waist-length silver hair and wide, silver-blue eyes.
The younger girl clung to her sister, her delicate face full of fear. Meanwhile, the older girl still aimed her wand at Ethan, her hands trembling slightly.
"Sorry, sir, but I have to ensure my sister's safety," the older girl said, trying to sound mature and composed.
"Let's go. If I've misjudged you, I'll apologize later."
Ethan suppressed a sigh.
"Fine," he replied, turning to lead the way.
As they walked, the older girl kept her wand trained on Ethan, ready to act at the first sign of betrayal.
The younger girl, however, seemed to relax slightly, curiosity overcoming her initial fear.
"You're Fleur Delacour and Gabrielle Delacour, aren't you?" Ethan asked over his shoulder.
"Yes! I'm Gabrielle! My sister is Fleur!" the younger girl piped up with surprising enthusiasm.
"Gabrielle!" Fleur hissed, trying to stop her, but it was too late.
"Don't worry," Ethan assured them.
"I mean you no harm."
They continued forward, weaving through the crowded campsite. Gradually, the two sisters began to relax.
Aurors patrolling the area greeted Ethan warmly, and the girls finally lowered their guard—and their wands.
Moments later, Madame Maxime's towering figure came into view.
"Madame Maxime!"
Gabrielle cried, darting toward her headmistress and launching herself into her arms like a cannonball.
Fleur followed close behind, wrapping Madame Maxime in a tight embrace.
The headmistress looked down at the two girls, her stern features softening with relief.
"Thank Merlin," she breathed, her voice heavy with emotion.
She turned to Ethan.
"Thank you, Mr. Ethan. You've done more for me than I can ever repay. I don't know what I'd have done if I'd lost them."
Fleur hesitated for a moment, then approached Ethan, bowing deeply.
"I'm so sorry, Mr. Ethan," she said, her voice trembling with sincerity.
"You risked your life to save us, and I wronged you. Please forgive me."