Stinging hexes

They left the bustling Great Hall behind, treading silently through the labyrinthine corridors of Hogwarts.

Soon, they arrived at an unused classroom tucked away in a quiet wing of the castle. The heavy wooden door creaked softly as Harry pushed it open.

Fleur had folded her arms under her chest and fixed her gaze on the high, rib‑vaulted ceiling.

Harry's heart gave a slight lurch at her tone. "Bad day?" he asked carefully.

Her eyes narrowed. "Maxime. She cornered me again—lectured me about 'appearances' and implied I'm losing focus because of you."

He grimaced, guilt mingling with anger on her behalf. "That must have been lovely."

Her lips thinned. "Oh, it was. She basically told me not to 'dally'—her words, not mine—with a Hogwarts student. Because apparently me and you spending time together might tarnish her precious reputation." Fleur rolled her eyes, a flash of indignation lighting them.

Harry placed a hand lightly on her elbow. "I'm sorry you had to put up with that. But you know—she can't do much. You're her champion now. She can't exactly kick you out."

A small, wry smile touched her mouth. "Yes. I love that she trapped me in this Tournament, and now she's stuck with me… and my distractions. Come to think of it, I also love being stuck with my distractions."

She uttered the last word with a purr that made him grin widely.

Then Fleur sighed and turned her attention to the corridor behind him. "We should find somewhere quieter," she said, her voice softening. "I assume you want to work on that new spell you found?"

"Yep," Harry answered, popping that 'p'. "Ready?"

Fleur gave an elegant shrug, stepping close enough for Harry to place a steadying hand around her waist.

Her hair shimmered in the pale light and, despite the dust and gloom, she still looked poised—like she belonged somewhere more refined.

"You look entirely out of place here," he said under his breath, half in admiration, half in jest.

"I'll consider that a compliment," she returned, a hint of a smile curving her lips.

Closing his eyes, Harry centred himself.

In his mind's eye, flame burst to life: pure, golden‑white fire that felt both fierce and strangely comforting.

With one sharp inhale, he let that energy overwhelm him and, a moment later, golden flames licked around them, radiant yet cool to the touch.

They flared up, swallowing the classroom in a brilliant flash.

When the fire dissipated, they stood in the familiar chamber.

Fleur breathed out. "Impressionnant. I'll never get used to that feeling."

Harry took a step back, giving her room to catch her bearings.

Fleur gestured to the wide, open space. "So, we're alone here. What do you need me for?"

His lips twitched. "Target practice, basically."

"Just what I needed to lose some steam," she said, smiling devilishly. "So? What does the spell do?"

Instead of answering, Harry flicked his wand into his hand.

"Lumina Reflexa," he said, slipping briefly into Parseltongue to familiarise himself with the incantation, his voice twisting into a soft, serpentine hiss.

"It's supposed to conjure a mirror‑like barrier that bounces spells back. It's in the last of Salazar's old tomes—probably the last useful spell I will find."

Fleur nodded, wand at the ready. "So you want me to throw spells at you?"

He shrugged, a grin tugging at his lips. "Well… it's the best way to test it. Start with a stinging hex. Low power, if you please."

A mischievous spark lit her eyes. "Sure."

Before he could protest, Fleur flicked her wand. A tight beam of stinging red light shot towards him.

"Lumina Reflexa," Harry hissed, raising his wand.

He envisioned a shimmering wall forming before him, like quicksilver.

The translucent barrier flickered into view—but the stinging hex burned right through, grazing his left shoulder and making him yelp.

Fleur pressed her lips together, concern briefly flickering. "Sorry—didn't expect it to fail so soon."

Harry rubbed his shoulder, heat pulsing through his robes. "No, it's alright," he muttered, exhaling. "I need to make my intent more precise."

He inhaled deeply, letting his enhanced magical senses ripple out.

The Chamber felt alive with power, swirling in hidden eddies.

He needed to harness just enough of it to strengthen the reflection.

"All right. Again," he said, steeling himself.

Fleur fired off the same hex, though she tweaked the angle slightly to avoid hitting him in the same spot. Harry tried again, firming his stance.

"Lumina Reflexa."

The silver sheen emerged faster this time, swirling into a mirror‑like surface. The stinging hex struck, cracking the barrier but ricocheting back—straight past Fleur's ear. She let out a small gasp and ducked.

When the barrier dissolved, they both stared at each other, wide‑eyed.

"That… worked a bit too well," Harry said, his heart pounding. "I need to direct it properly, not just reflect it at random."

Fleur blew out a breath, smoothing a stray tendril of hair from her face. "Mon Dieu, yes. You hit me on my head."

"Sorry," he murmured. "I didn't have time to aim the reflection. I'll need a moment to figure out how to control it."

Fleur's expression softened. "Well, at least we know it can work. And quickly, too."

"Indeed." Harry flexed his wand hand, rolling his shoulder. The residual sting from the earlier hex was fading, replaced by a sense of growing excitement. "Let's try again. I promise not to maim you this time."

She gave him a teasing smirk. "Those are heavy words for a little boy."

They ran through half a dozen more attempts. Each time, Harry had to feel the magic—sense how the barrier formed.

Lumina Reflexa felt different to a typical shield. It was more fluid, more like an extension of his own focus.

When Fleur's hexes struck, Harry's task wasn't just to hold the barrier but to guide the reflection, sending the force away rather than letting it scatter.

At first, he could barely manage a single reflection before the barrier shattered. But by the sixth attempt, he was controlling the bounce more smoothly, directing spells safely into the stone floor or walls, leaving harmless scorch marks.

Panting slightly, Fleur lowered her wand. "That's quite a bit of progress," she remarked. "I thought you'd need days."

He shrugged, a faint grin curving his lips. "Might still take me days to do it reliably, and I'll have to incorporate it into our practise with the others. But you're right—this is good progress."

Fleur rolled her shoulders, then squared them again. "One more for luck, hmm?"

Harry grinned, raising his wand.

He extended his magical awareness again, letting the Chamber's subtle currents bolster him.

He felt Fleur's stinging hex before it leapt forth.

"Lumina Reflexa."

The barrier shimmered into being, immaculate and mirror‑bright.

The hex slammed against it, and with a flourish, Harry guided the swirling red energy off to the side, where it fizzled into the damp stone.

He let out a slow breath, taking a step back. "I think I've got the gist. A bit more refinement, and I could weave it into an actual duel."

Fleur's lips curved in approval. "You did well, mon amour."

He went for a high five, but immediately realised his mistake.

Before Harry could respond, Fleur flicked her wand again—this time, it wasn't a stinging hex but a mild Stupefy that streaked towards him.

Instinct jolted through him; half‑formed words gathered on his tongue—only to die unsaid.

He could have cast a wand‑less Protego, but no.

The swirl of red energy approached, and something in him shifted.

He didn't consciously say any incantation—he just willed the reflection.

With a swift flick, he angled his wand, shaping a flicker of barrier and batting the spell aside.

A final twist of his wrist sent the Stupefy fizzing harmlessly against the floor.

Fleur gaped. "You didn't speak Parseltongue… I didn't hear a thing."

Harry stared at his wand arm, heart hammering. "I—I just felt it and reacted."

Excitement surged in his chest, mingling with astonishment. He'd cast a silent parselmagic earlier in the year—but not so smoothly.

She let out a startled laugh, her eyes gleaming with admiration. "So you can do it wordlessly now?"

Harry swallowed, a grin tugging at his mouth. "Looks like it. Not perfectly, but yeah… maybe I can."

Fleur's face lit with pride for him, and Harry felt a spark of warmth that could chase away the gloom in the whole world.

"Well," Fleur said at last, relaxing her stance, "Maxime can stuff her warnings. I'm proud to help you, mon amour."

Harry reached out and took her free hand, lacing their fingers. "And I'm proud you're by my side."

She squeezed his hand gently, the corners of her mouth curving in a quiet, fond smile. "Come on, let's go take a shower."

The smile that graced Harry's face after hearing that was, quite simply, brilliant.

.

.

.

I'm back!

Discord Link... [https://discord.com/invite/NJ3WV9RVgR] -> Come and talk with us!

Patreon Link: [https://www.patreon.com/Mr_0ne] or do a Google search of 'Patreon Fake Violinist'

Chapter 80: A Web of Intrigue

Chapter 81: Friendly duelling

...

Chapter 88: Stalker