Book Three: The Heir and The Champions

XXXII - The Devil (Part Three)

Fleur Delacour  

Fleur deflects and dodges, she blocks and steps through the mists to gain distance to cast a spell, but no matter what she does Harry is on her in a heartbeat. Twirling, spinning, dancing, he was like a whirlwind of spears all aimed to take her life, he wasn't as strong as the lieutenant nor as skilled, but what he lacked in that he made up for it in raw speed. Her sword was only being used to parry and block the incoming death blows from him as Fleur cast spells to keep him back. Fire and smaller explosions gave her breathing room for a moment before Harry would come at her from another angle and the dance would start again.

Needless to say, Fleur was having the time of her life.

This is what she wanted, to walk that knife edge between life and death, to exchange blows with a worthy opponent, to fight as if her life depended on it because it did, and it was fucking glorious! She parries the next two incoming strikes, holding back the spear just for a moment to raise her wand, the words burning in her mind like how her eyes and throat burned because of the iron in the air, a thin red wire emerges from the tip of her wand before she lashes out with it like a whip at Harry, keeping him back. As Harry dances out of the way of the wire Fleur laughs loudly, she could feel the blood pouring from her mouth as Harry deflects the wire with the blade of his spear, though everything else the wire hits glows the red-hot orange color of heated metal and begins to spark.

The wire extends and does its job of keeping Harry away from her as Fleur dances about, her movement becoming more erratic as she does, cutting red hot lines across the ground, rocks, and trees. She swings it wide and Harry takes the bait and charges at her before she quickly brings the wire back down at Harry clipping his shoulders before he spirals off to the left to avoid the wire hitting his neck and Fleur capitalizes on the opportunity.

With the wire still dancing in the air above Harry Fleur lets out a cry of " Ignis!" causing everywhere the wire had touched to explode like a fire bomb. Flame, sound, and hot ash touch almost everything as Fleur is knocked back by the force of her own explosion, if it wasn't for her ringing eardrums she would have laughed at the sound of Harry's cursing. He was knocked back as well, his pauldron shatters thanks to Fleur's charm work and, he lands into a roll before slamming into a tree, he ignores the pain thanks to the Hunt and pushes himself back up at the same time Fleur does. She watches as the boy picks himself up and looks around the cage he had made to trap her in, most of the snow was either melted or covered in soot, all the trees were burning, and large chunks of the earth were scattered about, but all he does is start laughing at the sight as if it was a joke to him that Fleur didn't get.

"What's so funny, Half-Blood?!" Fleur yells, her voice coming out horsed and raw thanks to the Iron.

Harry was breathing heavily, blood flowing from a wound in his hairline. The scarf had either fallen away or burnt to a crisp in the last explosion but it was no longer hiding his soot, blood, and sweat-covered face. His mad grin reflected Fleur's almost perfectly, he reaches up and grabs the ruined piece of armor on his shoulder and pulls it off before tossing it to the ground. "I'm just remembering something my aunt once told me after we got back from church," Harry says with a bloody grin, the fresh burn on the side of his face twisting as he smiles, "She told me I was going to be a homeless addict consorting with loose women and destined to go to hell because of it," Harry tells Fleur as he bends his knees once more and letting his wand drop into his hand.