Lover’s Quarrel
Fleur breezed through each of her duels, barely sparing a thought for opponents who posed little more than a fleeting distraction.
Whenever she wasn't dashing someone's hopes on the duelling platform, her gaze strayed towards Harry—drawn to the unsettling yet captivating display of his skill.
'They don't know what they're seeing,' she thought, her eyes scanning the spectators. And truth be told, neither did she—not entirely.
They likely assumed he was simply overwhelming everyone with raw, prodigious talent. That much was true, but Fleur knew there was more lurking beneath the surface.
Harry's ability to snap off spells with lightning speed was remarkable in itself—partly down to an innate gift that had surged exponentially since the Yule ritual.
Even so, he wasn't just raw power.
His Occlumency could grant him absolute clarity in the heat of a duel, allowing his intent to coalesce faster than most anyone else's.
But that, too, paled in comparison to the most decisive factor of all: his training.
He pushed himself so relentlessly that Fleur sometimes felt she wanted to claw at her own eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of it all.
Yet she couldn't deny her admiration—whenever Harry wasn't hanging out with her, she knew he was somewhere striving to improve himself, determined to reach a level of mastery no one else could match.
His wish was so simple, yet so hard to actually achieve, 'it's ironic, really.'
He wanted to free himself from his shackles, and in a world where every witch or wizard could will reality into being with a wand, power was the only true recourse.
She knew that there were other ways of achieving similar results such as money or fame, both of which Harry had plenty of—courtesy of his godfather.
But money and fame could only get you so far.
'True, he could bribe most people and pressure the others, but when your opponents include a supposedly dead Dark Lord and the paragon of Light, you need something more substantial at your disposal.'
'Harry is amazing,' Fleur thought and didn't mean his magical capabilities.
He was so gentle with her, so kind and understanding that she was afraid one day she'd wake up and realise it was all a dream—but it wasn't.
Harry was real, and he was hers, and she couldn't be any happier for it.
'I truly do love him, don't I?' she thought with utmost fondness, watching as he sent Krum flying backwards and won his duel.
'Do they even realise he could have finished that with a single spell?' she wondered, knowing that if Harry wished, he could have cast Glacialis Lux, conjuring that blasted cloud of frozen space, and Krum wouldn't have been able to do anything about it.
'But he doesn't want to make them fear him any more than they already do,' she thought, understanding the wisdom of Harry's actions.
Showing off too much power would only serve to put everyone on edge.
By keeping his duels within the realm of the impressive yet in the realm of the crowd's understanding, he maintained a delicate balance between earning respect and avoiding being hailed as a soon-to-be Dark Lord.
Shaking her head of her thoughts about her boyfriend, Fleur started heading towards him—they were the last competitors left.
Her eyes flicked with mild interest to the Hogwarts' Charms Professor as he dissolved her previous duelling circle and began expanding Harry's, making it grow to encompass the whole arena.
The diminutive man didn't hold her attention for long, though, and her eyes snapped to her most important person in the whole world.
Standing about ten metres opposite her, Harry's smug grin was as bright as always.
He had the most irksome ability to pass that smile on to her in turn.
She felt the magic shift, and in the next moment, she heard his voice in her head.
'Nervous, are we?' Harry said through a mind link he had just formed.
Fleur rolled her eyes, though her smile deepened.
'Hardly. I hope you're prepared to lose spectacularly in front of the entire school,' she said, knowing fully well the futility of her words.
She knew she was going to lose; it was just a matter of how long she could stand her ground.
Still, she had a few surprises prepared—she wasn't about to make this easy for him.
'I hope, my love, that you don't depend too much on those surprises you've been brewing up in that pretty head of yours,' Harry responded, his eyes glinting playfully, albeit she couldn't see that from her position.
Fleur's smile might have faltered, but she maintained her composure, not expecting anything less from Harry. 'I can say the same to you,' she said, without her usual punch.
Professor Faure's voice brought them back to reality…
"The final duel of the Beauxbatons Tournament will now commence!" The professor's voice echoed through the arena, amplified by yet another Sonorous charm.
"Miss Delacour of Beauxbatons against Mister Potter of Hogwarts! Competitors, take your positions and prepare to duel!"
Fleur stood her ground, chin raised, as she and Harry faced one another across the expanded duelling platform.
The crowd's excited murmurs faded to a hushed anticipation—everyone eager to witness the tournament's climax.
Bets were being placed rapidly among the students, whispered wagers exchanging hands as the spectators picked their champion.
Some thought that Harry wouldn't want to win against his girlfriend, that he would give Fleur the win to be polite—a misconception.
Others believed that Harry would re-enact his previous duels and end the last one with a simple stunner.
Either way, the tension in the air was palpable, reaching a fever pitch as the two champions readied themselves for combat.
'You know that I love you right?' Harry said as he bowed, almost mockingly.
Fleur almost snorted, stopping herself at the last moment. 'I know, mon amour. Are you trying to soften me up, trying to make me lose my focus?'
Fleur suppressed a small smile, her competitive edge not dulled in the slightest by his charm. 'It won't work.'
She bowed impeccably and then raised her wand and settled into her duelling stance, eyes narrowing with determination.
The air crackled with anticipation as Professor Faure raised his hand. "Duelists ready?"
She got firm nods in response.
"Trois… Deux… Un… BEGIN!"
The instant the command left her lips, Fleur unleashed a blindingly fast chain of spells—a feint to the left followed by a silent Impedimenta that streaked toward Harry's right side.
She needed to establish momentum early; against Harry, hesitation meant defeat.
Fleur had to drop to the ground and dodge a crackling stunner that had already reached her side.
Meanwhile, Harry simply swept his wand in a tight arc, conjuring a shimmering barrier of golden light that ate all of her spells.
He was mocking her.
Smiling devilishly, Fleur released her ever-constant control of her Veela blood and her face elongated into a sharp, beaked bird head, and long, scaly wings burst from her shoulders.
That wasn't all, though. The alluring force of her aura burst outward like a wave, washing over the arena with raw, primal magnetism.
Harry's eyes widened briefly, but his mental shields snapped into place almost instantaneously, his Occlumency holding firm against the enchanting assault.
Unlike him, the crowd wasn't nearly as prepared—gasps and sudden silences rippled through the stands as male spectators found themselves entranced, and some even drooled…
'Jee, are they weak-minded,' she thought and stopped paying the crowd any attention.
She kept her predatory, avian gaze trained on Harry and felt the tension in her wings—scales glinting in the warm lighting of the duelling platform—ready to burst into flight at a moment's notice if needed.
'I've always loved that look on you,' Harry commented through their link, his expression caught somewhere between mischievous grin and genuine admiration. 'Though we might need to find a better time for your wings,' he added, a playful edge to his tone.
Fleur let out a sound partway between a musical laugh and a piercing screech.
It echoed across the platform, sending fresh shivers down the spines of everyone listening.
'Perhaps I'll show you how well they function right now, mon amour,' she replied with mock sweetness.
Her wings snapped once, and the ground shuddered with the resulting gust.
Beneath her pointed talons, faint cracks formed.
She channelled a sliver of her magic into the stone, whispering a soft incantation too low for the onlookers to catch, and the edges of the duelling floor began to shimmer.
Harry, sensing the surge, took a measured step back, wand at the ready.
His stance remained deceptively casual—knees slightly bent, shoulders relaxed—but Fleur knew better as he cast his gaze across the tremor rippling through the floor.
'Might as well make this interesting,' he murmured.
No sooner had he spoken than Fleur lunged forward, bridging the distance between them with a graceful, airborne dash.
Her wings propelled her like a hawk descending upon its prey, and she twisted her wand in a neat, practised motion.
The crowd gasped.
"Flamma Swathe!" she incanted sharply and conjured a searing wave of flame that rolled off her hand, fanning outward in a deadly arc.
Harry's eyes narrowed.
Rather than dodging to the side—a typical response—he thrust his left palm forward, summoning a swirling white barrier that collided with the flames.
Tongues of fire scattered across it in tiny sparks, dissolving harmlessly into the air before they could reach him.
Yet Fleur wasn't done.
She used the momentum of her flight to pivot in mid-air, bringing her free clawed foot down as if to rake across his chest.
Magic crackled around her talons—a volatile mixture of Veela flame and raw power.
Harry reacted with impeccable timing, vanishing on the spot in a burst of fire.
The crowd barely registered the blink of an eye before he reappeared a few feet away, leaving Fleur's strike to slice through empty space.
She landed with feline agility, talons scraping stone. Her chest heaved, frustration creeping into her features.
Harry flicked his wand in her direction—he was never one to remain on the defensive for long.
"Fulminis Cordis!" he intoned, voice low but resolute.
A bolt of shimmering purple lightning arced from his wand tip, zigzagging towards Fleur much faster than a standard curse.
She reacted as soon as the first syllable left Harry's mouth, crossing her arms in front of her chest and chanting, "Protego Incantatem Velo!"
The translucent shield she conjured had a faint pink hue, reminiscent of rose quartz, swirling with Veela fire.
Crack! The lightning impacted her shield, causing a violent burst of sparks to illuminate the duelling arena.
Fleur staggered slightly, her feet scraping against the stone floor, but her shield held.
The crowd exhaled collectively with relief—Fleur's aura faltered as she lost her focus—and amazement mingled in the air.
In response, she sent a barrage of wandless firebolts at Harry—smaller, needle-like bursts aimed at testing his reflexes.
While each lacked the dragon-level heat she'd conjured in the Triwizard challenge, they came in rapid succession, forcing Harry to dance lightly around them.
His wand flicked left, right, then left again, batting away stray flickers of flame before they made contact.
"Show-off," Fleur muttered through her beak, yet her voice betrayed a note of admiration.
He answered her with a tilted grin. 'Takes one to know one.'
How Harry managed to hear and understand her, Fleur didn't know.
They locked eyes.
An unspoken challenge passed between them: time to ramp this up.
Fleur crouched, wings folded behind her, and began chanting under her breath.
Her scaly wings quivered with an accumulation of magic, and the tips of her talons glowed faintly red.
The air around her shimmered as though she were standing on a sun-scorched path.
From Harry's vantage point, he could practically feel the heat emanating from her.
He whipped his wand in a circular motion, conjuring a swirling draft of frigid wind that funnelled in from above.
The sudden temperature clash caused a swirl of steam and sparks, creating an almost theatrical haze over the platform.
Even through the roiling clouds, he could see her avian eyes shining.
She'd been aiming to corner him—force him into that stifling heat that might cause him to slip up.
Yet his counter had set them right back on level ground.
He shot her a look and slashed his wand diagonally.
Were it anyone else, they'd have probably lost, not knowing how to defend against the spell Fleur was positive Harry was about to cast.
The next moment, a blade of compressed air howled through the swirling steam and she smiled.
"Terra Aegis!"
Summoning a thick wall of rock to rise between her and the incoming wind blade, she pressed herself against the stone's surface.
The swirling wind clashed with the earthen shield, blowing chunks of stone in all directions.
Dust clouded the air.
Rather than waiting for the dust to settle, Fleur took flight, her wings giving a mighty flap that sent her soaring above the remains of her makeshift barrier.
She aimed her wand downward—straight at Harry's silhouette in the haze.
"Ignis Colona," she invoked, channelling that twin-pillar fire spell.
Twin columns of flame erupted out of thin air around Harry, forcing him to step swiftly to the side to avoid being scorched.
He raised a hand, about to redirect them, but her voice rang out again, "Tonitrus Mico!" A thunderclap boomed through the stadium as a jagged lightning curse tore its way towards him from above.
'Crafty as ever,' Harry said.
Fleur felt pride, knowing Harry was surprised.
Controlling two elements at once in quick succession required a great deal of skill, but Fleur made it look effortless.
'If only it didn't take me so much effort to master it.'
He dived forward, batting the lightning aside and letting it strike behind him in a flash of brilliant blue.
As shards of stone rained around him, he banished them wandlessly towards her, snuffing out her fires as he went.
'What did he-' Fleur's thoughts broke off as she watched in disbelief.
In the next instant, his silent command shaped the air around him into a compact orb of swirling wind that coalesced in front of his wand.
He thrust his wand upwards—his own brand of a forceful wind-blast.
A swirling gale caught Fleur mid-flight, buffeting her wings.
She jolted, losing altitude and unable to recover.
With a last desperate attempt, she tried to angle her wings to regain stability, but the relentless gale tore at her feathers, sending her plummeting towards the stone platform below.
The crowd erupted into thunderous cheers.
After all, this was no ordinary demonstration of student duelling skills; it was a clash of two exceptionally gifted magicians.
Fleur, flipping in mid-air, retracted her Veela form with a deft motion, allowing herself to drop rapidly back to the duelling platform.
She landed with barely a wobble, her breath coming in ragged bursts.
'Don't tell me you're letting me have the advantage?' she asked him, knowing fully well that he could have ended their duel then and there.
She barely noticed that he lifted a brow. 'Who said anything about advantage?'
Fleur felt her blood go cold as she noticed the earth beneath her feet shift almost imperceptibly.
Too late, she realised Harry had been silently manipulating the platform while they exchanged blows.
One precise twist of his wand sent a wave of shimmering force through the pillar beneath her feet—enough to fling her up into the air like an unwitting projectile.
With a grunt of alarm, Fleur tried to brace herself, conjuring a cushion of heated air below, yet the momentum was too strong.
She slammed against solidified air and grunted in pain.
"Merde," she hissed under her breath.
Harry, not letting up for an instant, surged forward.
She sensed the surge of his magic and knew he'd fire his trademark stunner.
A subdued hush fell over the crowd, as if they knew they were witnessing the final moment of this dizzying contest.
Fleur's chest rose and fell in rapid, shallow breaths as she plummeted towards the ground.
Her eyes sparked with defiance, and with one last push, she transformed into her avian form again.
'It's not over yet,' Fleur told herself and flicked her wand in a broad arc.
A swirl of bright fire lunged towards Harry's midsection, enough to keep him guessing.
He deflected it, of course—gracefully, swiftly—but it gained her a moment's respite.
She used that fleeting second to gather what remained of her power into one final gambit: Veela flames crackled around her fingertips, coiling like molten threads.
She pushed them into the tip of her wand, gritting her teeth against the strain and roared.
"Flamma Velox!"
A roiling blaze shaped itself into the silhouette of a massive bird—a phoenix-like construct that shrieked with unholy intensity, bright enough to illuminate every corner of the hall.
It sped across the stone floor in a blur of swirling embers, aiming straight at Harry.
She heard the crowd's collective gasp, and even Harry's eyes widened in genuine surprise.
The corners of Fleur's mouth lifted—this was the best she had to offer, and by all the stars above, she hoped it counted for something.
Yet, Harry Potter did not falter.
Rather than retreat, he raised both hands and met the fiery phoenix head-on.
He thrust his wand forward in a complex, circular motion, and the temperature around them plummeted.
A hush of frosty air spread out like a ripple on a pond, colliding with Fleur's conjured phoenix in a burst of glittering steam and dying sparks.
The silhouette screeched once—then shattered into cinders.
'Well, I did my best,' Fleur thought as her magic dispersed around her, a trembling breath escaping her lips.
The dizzying fatigue caught up to her all at once, and she felt her consciousness start to slip away.
The stands erupted in a thunderous roar, cheers and frantic clamour echoing through the duelling hall.
Stunned watchers—professors, students, visitors alike—struggled to reconcile the brilliance they had just witnessed.
Once the immediate shock faded, a jubilant chant of "Potter! Potter! Potter!" began to ring out, while others shouted Fleur's name, praising her astonishing performance.
Her last sight before darkness claimed her was Harry's concerned face in front of her and his tender touch as he caught her when she began to fall.
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Hiya! I'm kind of back. I've been to places... mostly reading all kinds of books and trying to live!
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Chapter 94: Time passes
Chapter 95: DADA
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Chapter 103: Aurum Fiend