@❛ percy pendrich。 It was a point of contention on whether or not Jean wanted to go to St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies, said magical maladies that flurried around in an ruptured chaos had giving one more point to the side of Jean that wanted nothing more than to flee.

Someone had a lizard's tail on their nose, the other had become a puddle in a bucket with indiscernible animal waste around the edge (Jean could only empathize with the poor sap who had to put his friends in the closest bucket, and how that wizard would get him back after the hospital visit), and another had seemed to be staring straight into Jean's eyes with an awed look on her face. Jean wasn't so sure if she was sick with a wizard brain eating bug, or if it was something of Muggle concoction. Or she was thinking about hitting on him, in either definitions of the word. Either way, when Jean was finally granted a visit inside, he had never moved faster out of that girl's sight.

The British Ministry would be hot on his heels, it had only been a few hours since Jean had watched the hit wizards transporting to St. Mungos, giving Jean just a little bit of time to make a game plan for how he would get out of this. Would he get sent back to France? Or would he just get a major pay cut? Benefits retracted? Any of those options gave Jean a shiver.

"Mr...?" The nurse her heel as they got closer to the wing of Jean's destination, quirking a brow up at her tense visitor.

"Leroy. Jean Leroy." Jean spoke, his voice hoarse. He aptly cleared his throat behind a closed fist, his awkwardness easing the air between them just a tad.

"Please do not touch either patients. If you do, I'll have to admit you as well." She tapped her clipboard with the sparkly ink of her pen, swirling on her page like the Milky Way. "And keep your voice down. Good day."

Her entrance was announced by a finalizing click of her ballpoint, clipboard tucked under her arm and pen dangling down by a string as she opened the curtains to the two people Jean had come in to see.

His partner, who had travelled with him from France all the way here on their case that had given Jean a few more grey hairs than he needed (though his father was partially to blame for that, stupid genetics), now laying in the hospital bed with their arm completely without structure, Skele-Gro running through their bloodstream as it tried to replace the lost arm.

Yet, his partner was fast asleep. Due to the process of the Skele-Gro, Jean could not blame them, for it was a painful process, regrowing an entire hand. Jean had never experienced it, only getting the awful tasting Skele-Gro for broken bones, but he had heard of the pain.

"You got me good, Mr. Leroy."

"Jean. No need to bring my father into this." Jean tried to ease the tension in his jaw with an out of character joke. "I am sorry about the incident. We were chasing the culprit and, in the dark—"

"The smuggler, yes." They said, eyes flashing up in recognition. Jean nodded. "These kinds of things happen. If anything, you should be apologizing to your partner here, they're the ones who got the worst of it."

Biting his lip, Jean looked back over to his partner, but quickly turned his gaze. "You are investigating the smuggler that's been supplying pearl dust, yes? We had followed the same lead."

The other nodded, a smile playing on their face. "Indeed. It was only a matter of time, I knew of the visiting Hit Wizards coming into the Ministry to help with the case, yet I was working on my own. My partner would certainly not be with the outcome of this, but he's definitely capable to help you out. Maybe four's a crowd, hm?"

Jean had opened his mouth to reply, insisting that he worked by himself and merely share information with this supposed partner of his, until he had heard the marble floor click with a hurried tempo.