A smirk spread across his lips, and he shook his head. 'I have a better idea,' he grinned. 'You know how to duel, don't you?'
'Of
course,'
Fleur
sniffed.
Everyone
at Beauxbatons learnt a bit about how to duel in their last two years. 'You want to duel,' she realised.
He nodded. 'Not here, though.'
'You will lose,' she told him archly. 'I am a good duellist.'
'I need the practice,' Harry shrugged, 'but you should know better than to tell me you'll beat me. You said you'd win the Triwizard Tournament too.'
'I would have done if Voldemort's follower hadn't interfered,' she declared. Harry was a powerful wizard, but experience was invaluable when duelling, and she knew he couldn't have much, if any. Fleur's magic was not as suited to duelling as it was to more subtle magics, but it was certainly no weaker than any others, especially when it came to casting spells with a fire element medium. Harry would not know what hit him. 'Let's go back to the chateau,' she decided, taking a grip on his arm.
'It's going to take a while to get used to that,' Harry remarked. He always seemed to find the idea of her living in a chateau amusing, even though it was far from France's most elegant home.
Fleur pictured the entrance hall of her home and pushed the world back past them until they were standing where she had imagined them amongst Gabby's shoes.
'Are your parents home?'
'Not today, not until late,' Fleur told him, 'there is an event in Paris that they are attending together.' She took his hand and led him around the main staircase to the smaller second set of steps and down towards the basement. 'Do you have a dungeon?' Harry asked, smiling brightly. 'Please tell me you do.'
'No,' Fleur answered, 'we have a basement that is partly a wine-cellar, and partly empty. Maman used to brew potions down there, but when they enlarged the shop in Carcassonne she no longer needed to. Gabby and I use it occasionally, normally for practicing magic since it's warded quite extensively.'
'What are the rules?'
'Normal duelling rules,' Fleur answered simply. Harry raised an eyebrow, so she embellished. 'Nothing more dangerous than a stunner, no stepping out of the ring, and no speaking except for spell incantations. I want to see the curse you used on Malfoy first, though.'
The basement was typical of a wine cellar with a high, vaulted ceiling and an earthy, musty smell. Fleur had come down here as a child to explore and play games amongst the bottles, or to watch her mother brew, often dragging an uninterested Gabrielle with her.
She led Harry well past the wine racks and the vulnerable glass bottles into the farthest room and shut the door behind them. Fleur knew all too well that a stray spell could easily slip through the open door and shatter an expensive vintage; the bottles weren't warded or charmed.
'Show me,' she ordered. The paper had made it sound like quite a powerful piece of magic. He'd avoided showing her his fire spell, the one strong enough to burn through the hedges of the maze when most other spells spattered harmlessly off their leaves. Fleur wanted to see this one.
Harry drew himself up, adopting a serious, focused expression and slid his wand from his sleeve. He looked quite ridiculous and Fleur stifled a giggle at his pompous expression.
'Aguamenti,' he intoned dramatically, and a small stream of water burst from the tip of his wand to spatter on the floor. Fleur shot him her hardest glare, caught between laughter and the desire to singe the smug smile off his face.
'That's the spell I used,' he protested, when she drew her wand threateningly. 'I promise.'
'Then show me what you did to it.' He was being difficult again, just like with the fire spell he wouldn't show her.
'What will you do it I don't?' Harry asked.
'I'll tell Gabrielle about the photos in the Room of Requirement,' Fleur answered sweetly. Her little sister would not leave Harry alone until she had the full story, every romantic aspect would need to be explored in detail. He paled slightly.
'That seems a little harsh,' he mused, but raised his wand.
This time, instead of pulling a silly pose, his face hardened and his eyes slowly turned chillingly cold. Fleur could feel, very faintly, the way his magic flowed and twisted though his wand.
'Aguamenti,' he hissed, and there was icy anger in his tone.
The water sprayed across the room against the wall, sharp chunks of ice smashing against the sandstone with the sound of breaking glass.
'How did you do that?' She asked, staring at the pieces of ice. 'That's a simple conjuring spell, not a curse.'
'I told you,' he replied confusedly, 'I was angry.' 'You only meant to drench him with water, didn't you?' Fleur realised.
'I let my emotions get the best of me,' Harry admitted, 'and the ice was the result, though he deserved it all the same.'
Fleur walked over to the jagged fragments and poked them with her toe. They were thick, sharp-edged and the width and length of her palm. He'd turned a simple, school level, conjuration into something lethal. She had no idea that strong emotions could have such an effect on magic. Every wizard and witch knew that their feelings could affect the intent of a spell, that was why they were taught to clear their minds before casting, to ensure their focus was on the spell. Fleur had never heard of emotions doing anything but disrupting the intent and causing the magic to fail. 'I've never seen anything quite like it,' she murmured.
'You haven't?' He seemed upset by that, as if he thought he'd done something wrong.
'It's brilliant,' she told him proudly, 'dangerous, but brilliant.' She poked the pieces once more, admiring them. 'You need to be able to control and channel your emotions,' she decided. 'I'm not duelling you seriously until you can. I don't want to end up like Malfoy,' she smirked.
Harry's wand disappeared into his sleeve before she could blink, as if he was somehow afraid that just by holding it she might be hurt. That needed to be nipped in the bud.
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