Rowan edged closer behind a shattered display stand, keeping low as spells crackled in the distance. When he finally got a clear look at the hostages, his breath caught.
Hermione Granger.
There were seven captives in total, four adults and three children. Hermione was one of the youngest, her face pale but rigid with forced calm. Rowan knew she was in France for the summer. They had exchanged letters not long ago. She was supposed to be visiting the eastern regions, not Paris.
This was not supposed to be happening.
"You're surrounded, Old One-Eye," the Auror leading the operation shouted. He looked to be in his forties, wand steady but jaw tight. "Release the hostages and drop your wand. This ends now."
The one-eyed wizard laughed, his wand pressed casually against a captive's throat. "Go ahead. Try it. I guarantee they die before your spell reaches me. Three of them are minors. Think your superiors will enjoy that report?"
He had played this game for decades. It always worked.
Opposing forces hesitated when lives were at stake. They always did. Years ago, one Auror had refused to back down. Fifty Muggles had died that day, and she had paid the price instead of him.
The Auror captain cursed under his breath, hesitation flickering across his face.
That was all the opening Old One-Eye needed.
"Avada Kedavra."
Green light flashed. One of the adult hostages collapsed instantly, lifeless before he hit the ground.
"Still thinking?" Old One-Eye sneered. "Every ten seconds, another dies."
The countdown had barely begun when the Auror captain raised a hand. "Fine. You walk. But you release half the hostages first. I'm not trusting you after you're gone."
"You don't get to bargain," Old One-Eye replied flatly.
The captain lifted his wand higher. "Then I'll lose my badge tonight if that's what it takes to end this."
For a long moment, Old One-Eye studied him. Then he clicked his tongue and gestured sharply. His men shoved three adult hostages forward, keeping the children close. Easier to control. More leverage.
The Aurors opened a narrow path.
Old One-Eye began retreating toward the tent's exit, dragging Hermione and the other two children with him.
Once outside, they could Disapparate. After that, the chase would be chaos.
Rowan felt his jaw tighten.
This could not continue.
He glanced toward the exit and froze. A tall mirror stood near the entrance, part of a decorative illusion display.
An idea snapped into place.
Rowan slipped into a backstage dressing area behind the nearest platform, found a mirror leaning against the wall, and raised his wand.
"The mirror realm opens."
The glass rippled like disturbed water. Rowan stepped forward and vanished into it.
Inside the mirrored space, the world was a flawless reflection, silent and empty, every object reversed, every color muted. No people. No movement. Perfect cover.
He sprinted through the mirrored tent toward the exit and waited.
Thirty seconds later, Old One-Eye and his remaining men reached the mirror outside, Hermione and the other two children pulled tight between them.
Then a boy burst out of the glass.
"Expelliarmus!"
Rowan struck the moment his feet hit the ground. The wand flew from the hand of the wizard holding Hermione and skidded across the floor. Rowan's other hand followed through in a brutal, open-handed blow that sent another captor crashing backward.
The suddenness of it stunned everyone.
Three green flashes erupted at once as the remaining dark wizards reacted on instinct.
Rowan bent backward in a fluid motion, spells slicing through empty air above him. As he moved, he struck back. Another disarming charm. A lance of condensed light tore through a raised arm, sending a wand clattering to the floor.
In seconds, the children were free.
Only Old One-Eye and one follower remained standing.
Rowan straightened, breath steady, eyes locked forward.
Something was wrong.
Old One-Eye had not attacked.
Not once.
He stood there murmuring under his breath, one eye fixed on Rowan, the words of his spell sharp and unfamiliar. This was not fear. It was preparation.
Rowan's grip tightened around his wand.
Whatever Old One-Eye was doing, it wasn't over yet.