Summary: Uh... just read it? It was just some stupid idea I came up with in a spur of the moment type thing... Set in the fourth book, well more accurately, the fourth movie, when Dumbledore is giving the speech of how Cedric died. It's a bit odd, I suppose… but whatever. I have more planned for the story, but I'm not going to post it if people don't like this part. I know this part kind of sucks, but this is all I can come up with right now. I hope it will get much better in the next chapter, if I post it... Oh, and please forgive me if I change from past to present tense in the story. I normally write in past tense, but present is just how I started this one...
She sits at the Ravenclaw house table, along with all of the other Beauxbatons. All of them are surprisingly beautiful, but there is something about her that sticks out like she is wearing a giant sign that reads: "Look at me, I'm the most beautiful person at this table." And since everyone's stares are on her instead of her fellow Beauxbatons, it leaves me wondering if there really is a sign there, and it's just near impossible to see.
The Triwizard Tournament is finally over, and I am glad. The whole scenario in the graveyard and Cedric's death has left Harry very distant, and I'm hoping that as more time passes, he will get better about dealing with it. I know I should be concentrating on Harry right now, and trying to help him deal, but even he seems caught up in Fleur's beauty, so I don't feel too bad. Even the girls seem to be entranced by her, although, Lavender and Parvarti don't count because they've been crushing on her since the first moment she walked into this hall. I've always wondered if Veelas affected women. I suppose I now know the answer.
Dumbledore is making a speech. I don't know what he's going on about, but Fleur seems to be paying attention, if the sight of her icy eyes staring raptly at the end of the hall are any indication. Sometime I would like to learn of what goes on in that head of hers. I know through various sources that she is quite intelligent, so it would be interesting to learn of what things capture her attention.
I make an effort to listen to Dumbledore, for Fleur's face has changed from a calm visage to a look of minor discomfort. I vaguely catch the words, "Cedric," and, "graveyard." Oh, no wonder everyone seems so upset. Well, the people paying attention seem upset, mainly the Beauxbatons because they aren't all so enraptured with their fellow schoolmate that they can actually listen to what the Headmaster is saying. It strikes me as odd that they don't fawn over her like we do. Well, I suppose they do, since she is their school Champion, but it's a different kind of fawning. I wonder, are they immune to each others' charms?
"And now, as my final words tonight--" Dumbledore's voice is cut short as a deafening crash sounds from the east wall. The stone and brick implodes inwards, soaring across the hall to land in various places amongst the frightened and wary people littering the house tables. One piece of stone, large enough to be as big as Malfoy's humungous head, comes merely a few inches within the range of hitting my face, and I cry out, lurching backwards off the bench. Harry and Ron are ducking under the table, along with most of the rest of the Gryffindor house. I keep backing up, doing some strange sort of reverse shuffle until I hit something solid.
I look up, and see two piercing ice blue eyes locked onto mine. Fleur is poised over the bench, in a sort of half-standing position, as if she were just about to get up, but my sudden collision with her leg made the progress of her motion stop. She stands up fully and extends her hand to me. I stare at it strangely for a few moments before realizing that something terrible could happen in a few seconds, and grab her hand eagerly, struggling into a standing position as well. Eventually our eyes stray from each other to the sudden explosion that took place on the east wall.
Death Eaters, about fifty of them, come strolling through the impossibly large hole in the wall, dark hoods pulled over their faces, and white masks obscuring their identities as well. I wonder why Dumbledore hasn't done anything to stop them yet, and I look over to see his unconscious form on the floor. A large gash adorns his left temple, thick crimson liquid being pulled by gravity down to stain the floor. A stone the size of a small boulder lays a few feet away, the same red liquid splattered on one corner. I tear my eyes away from the sight of the other professors trying to awaken the Headmaster, and look back to the ominous cloud of black entering the hall.
The crowd of black parts, and I see one of the most horrible sights of my life. A pale figure, dressed in black, strolls past the separating ranks of Death Eaters. His skin is the whitest alabaster, too pale to be at least remotely healthy, and his face is strangely shaped, with no structure for a nose, other than two slits where a nose should be instead. He is more man than animal, yet more snakelike than man. He smiles cruelly, strolling deeper into the hall. The house tables closest to him prevent him progressing any further, and with a wave of his hand, they detach themselves from the floor to speed across the room. At this time, I don't realize that they are heading straight for Fleur and I, but she obviously does. She grabs my hand and jumps from the floor onto the table, dragging me up with her, so that by the time the table comes flying to the place we were just standing, we don't get decapitated and end up on top of the half-splintered table instead.
The force of the other table hitting it forced the Ravenclaw table into the other wall, so Fleur jumps down from the table to the other side. I should point out that this is a stupid move which leads us closer to who I assume is Voldemort, but I can't say anything as I am dragged down from the table.
Harry and Ron are still on the floor, in the same exact spot, minus the table providing them shelter. They are now in the open, and Harry stands slowly while Ron continues to cower at his feet. Voldemort smiles upon seeing Harry, apparently pleased that he managed to catch him. His eyes flick over to the front of the hall where, as I turn to look and see, Dumbledore is rousing. Voldemort's eyes narrow slightly and a small snarl appears on his face.
By now, all of the other students have flattened themselves against the surrounding walls, as far away from Voldemort and the Death Eaters as they can get. But Fleur and I are still within very close range of the Dark Lord. I feel a small tug on my hand, and I realize that Fleur is inching sideways, trying to put some distance between the Dark Lord and ourselves. I move with her, still unconsciously hyperaware of her hand in mine. All of Fleur's efforts of distance are squashed however, when Voldemort mutters, "Exutio."
A slightly shimmering barrier erupts from the ground just behind us, tracing a rectangular wall around the inner part of the hall, so that only Voldemort, the Death Eaters, Harry, Ron, Fleur, myself, and half of the Gryffindor house table are the only ones inside the barrier. Well, there goes our chance at escape. I hear Fleur curse under her breath in French. With some of the knowledge I had gained from visiting France one summer, I translate it to some other word for, "Damn it."
"Harry, my dear boy," Voldemort says. His voice almost hurts my ears. It sounds as if his voice is a curse, already causing harm, though no incantation has been said. "How glad I am to see you!"
I can see Harry shaking slightly, even with the distance between us. "Why are you here?" he asks, his voice trembling.
"Ah, you see, Harry, I finally realized that my strategy of you coming to me was not going to work. I realized that it was time to stop being so cowardly and come after you myself rather than waiting and plotting some way for you to fall into a trap. I realize that now, it is easier to keep you caged, rather than catch you," Voldemort says, his snakelike eyes flickering about the room excitedly, and a boyish sort of glee in his voice--one that sounds horrible with the words he speaks. "And now, Harry, it is time for us to finish what was started that fateful night in the graveyard!"
I don't know if Voldemort realizes that Fleur and I are within the barrier he has created. It seems that his only focus is Harry, so maybe he hasn't quite thought of it yet. However, his eyes flicker from Harry for a moment, down to Ron, who is still frozen on the floor, and then to Fleur and I. I gasp involuntarily, and I feel Fleur squeeze my hand slightly.
"Ah, it seems I missed a few while excluding your fellow schoolmates from interrupting." It seems like he's muttering to himself, yet to Harry at the same time. "Ah, no matter. They will be taken care of. And as for you, Harry…" Voldemort raises his wand, but Harry stands motionless. "Incarcerous!" Ropes appear around Harry, snaking around his body and binding him. His struggles are futile, for I doubt the ropes are weak enough to be broken out of by mere physical strength. Voldemort moves over and grabs Harry by the arm before pulling him to the opposite side of the barrier. He conjures a chair for himself, and settles down in it. "Let the show begin!"
The Death Eaters finally move from their place near Voldemort. Ron whimpers as they get closer, but it looks as though he's glued to the floor. "Immobulus!" one of them bellows, and Ron freezes on the spot. The Death Eater that jinxed him kicks him aside, knocking him far away from Fleur and I. Fleur lets go of my hand to grab her wand, and it's now that I realize that she is left handed. She's on my right side, so there is no way we can maintain our hand-holding and have our wands ready at the same time. Following her example, I fumble in my jacket pocket for my wand as well.
"Expelliarmus!" the same man roars, his wand aimed right at me. And for the life of me, I can't do anything as I prepare to be hit. My reflexes just aren't kicking in, so when the jinx hits me in the chest, I'm not surprised. I am forced backwards, spinning just slightly from the odd angle at which I was jinxed. The splintered Gryffindor house table breaks my fall, but not before my knee collides with a dangerously broken piece of the bench. I'm pretty sure I scream as I fall, aware of the burning in my leg, and sure that it'll be a pain to get all of those splinters out. I am now wandless, so the most I can do is sit on the floor while Fleur defends us. I hope so, anyway….
Fleur moves in front of me, blocking me from any of the spells the Death Eaters had planned to cast. They all raise their wands simultaneously, for which spell, I'm not sure, but I know it won't be pleasant. I cover my face with my hands as I see bright light erupt from their wands, but I suddenly hear Fleur yell, "Protego!" I remove my arms in time to see a shield surrounding Fleur and I, the spells being deflected away from us.
My leg is bleeding freely now, and my vision is starting to get hazy. The dimness is probably from blood-loss. I guess it doesn't matter much, seeing as how my wand is halfway down the hall and I can't reach it even though I want to. I hope Fleur can do something to stop them.
"Fine, if that's the way you want it!" the same man growls, apparently noticing that the shield Fleur created lasts for quite a while. I can see the man grin through my hazy vision, and he rips off his mask, along with his hood and cloak. Somehow, his smile changes. It looks more animalistic than before. A low growl emanates from his chest, and now without the cloak, I can see that dark fur is sprouting all over his body. A small thought comes into my head, and I wonder if werewolves can change at will. Why can't I remember? Oh, that's right, blood-loss…. Soon, the man's human body structure warps into that of a bestial wolf, much larger and definitely more beastlike than I remember Professor Lupin being. I look at the other closest ring of Death Eaters and realize that at least five more of them have transformed into giant beasts.
My vision is at it's darkest point now, and all I can see is Fleur's back, and six dark figures over her shoulder. Just before I pass out,she turns to look at me, and I see a hint of worry in her icy blue eyes. She turns back to the beasts, and then I hear only strange animal noises as everything goes black...
I open my eyes slowly. The darkness is fading a little, and I can see blurry outlines of my closest surroundings. The table is dark behind me, and so are five or six dark spots on the floor that I can't quite identify. Straight in front of me is something impossibly large, and very white. It's a giant… lion? Indeed, it is a great snow-white lioness, although by far larger and more beautiful than any one I have ever read of or seen in books or at the zoo when I was a young child. The dark spots on the floor of the hall, I can now tell are the animal corpses of the werewolves. They look to have been slaughtered by another sort of animal. Probably the giant lioness looming protectively in front of me.
I sit up slowly, not remembering falling over. I keep my eyes fixed on the lioness, wondering what on Earth it's doing. It looks to be shaking. A shiver passes through the animal's body, before the brilliant white lioness begins to change forms, regressing into the very human form of… Fleur? She collapses to her hands and knees, apparently exhausted from her transformation into the lioness. Her breath comes in fast pants, and I can see her arms quivering where she tries to keep herself from collapsing to the ground. Over her now much lower form, I can see one lone Death Eater standing before her. As I look around the room, I see all the rest of them just like the werewolves--dead.
The remaining Death Eater raises his wand. "Crucio!" he cries, and a scream is torn from Fleur's throat. Her back arches and she rises onto her knees, thrashing about until she falls to her back, terrible spasms making her body shake in frequent convulsions in front of me. She continues screaming, writhing about on the floor like the spider that Moody cursed in class the day he talked of the Unforgivable Curses. Moments pass as she keeps screaming, until finally, her head turns toward me, and those ice blue eyes stare into my soul, and I know in that moment, that if it weren't for me, she wouldn't be in this predicament. And as much as it pains me to do it, and as much as my aching leg screams at me for doing it, I jump to my feet and lurch at the Death Eater. I don't so much tackle him as I just collapse from my weakened leg, and he happens to come with me. It gets the job done though, and Fleur stops screaming.
I struggle to get the Death Eater's wand out of his hands for a moment, before remembering a trick I learned in one of my confrontations with Malfoy last year, and viciously slug him in the face. He lets go of his wand to clutch his nose, and I fling it as far away from us as I can. I can feel Fleur's arms around my waist as she lifts me off of him and pulls me to her side. She keeps her wand trained on the bleeding Death Eater before us, placing me behind her and out of danger. As I look over her shoulder again, I can see Harry and Voldemort on the other side of the hall. Voldemort is leaning forward in his chair, as if in anticipation, and Harry is just… there…. It looks like he's completely shut down.
Fleur is still staring down the Death Eater on the floor. Her voice is cold when she says, "Diffindo," and his body splits apart like a pillow pulled from both ends at once. I look away, staring at Fleur's narrow shoulders instead of the bloody mess on the floor in front of us. It doesn't particularly bother me that Fleur just killed someone, after all, he was a Death Eater, but I've never had much of a strong stomach for people being torn in half.
A sudden burst of applause surprises both Fleur and I into motion. I instinctively duck, while she raises her wand again. Voldemort is clapping excitedly, no longer sitting in his chair. "Bravo, Ms. Delacour, bravo." He is moving towards us, his wand now in his hand as well. "That was a great performance, Ms. Delacour," he exclaims. "Especially that whole lioness bit. It was very… inspiring. Fight fire with fire, I suppose." He steps over one of his followers without giving him even a glance. He continues to advance towards Fleur. "I must confess myself impressed. You have been the first one to take down almost two score of my followers in less than… let's say, fifteen minutes. Bravo." He stops about twenty feet away, a grin adorning his snakelike features. "However, as you seem so dangerous, I'm afraid I cannot allow you any more fun, should you decide to bother me in torturing my captive. So therefore… Vulnusculum!"
I have never heard of such a curse in my life. I've never thought of what it could do either. I know through some strange translation vulnus is to wound, but I'm not sure of it's exact definition. Voldemort smirks and turns back to Harry, wading through the sea of corpses back to his previous place.
Suddenly, Fleur collapses to her knees. I move up closer to her, maneuvering around her to see her face. It is its normal beauty for just a moment, before deep cuts start appearing in random places on that beautiful face. She gasps as blood trickles from each wound, painting her face a dark crimson color. Dark red splotches appear on her blue sweater, and I can tell without even looking that more wounds are opening all over her body. One particularly large spot catches my attention, a dark crimson X right in the space where her heart would be. Her breathing is shallow, and each time she exhales, blood trickles from the corner of her mouth. Her icy blue eyes are impossibly wide, staring straight at me, and there's this look in them as if to ask why? Without warning, she has a sudden coughing fit and more blood is expelled from her mouth. And for all of my supposed brilliance and intelligence, I can't figure out for the life of me what to do. I'm just stuck here, watching Fleur bleed to death.
But then, Fleur just all of the sudden stops coughing. She grits her teeth and struggles to her feet, her wand clenched tightly in her hand. I don't know if I'm more surprised at the fact that she's still standing, or at the fact that she'd face off against Voldemort again. It's almost a tied situation. As I stare at her, I can see just how much she's hurt. There are so many wounds on her body that her clothing is almost completely soaked and stained from it.
I don't know what she does, but one moment, she's standing right in front of me, and then the next thing I know, she's standing inches away from Voldemort, and they are facing each other with their wands at the other's neck. I can see the tip of Voldemort's wand pressing into that pale neck, and I can see her wand mirroring his on his neck. For a moment, they are frozen like that, each with a wand to their throat and their wand to someone else's, but it seems they both come to one conclusion.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!" they both scream. And when they say it, it's like their voices merge, like it's only one person speaking, with a strangely feminine, yet oddly masculine voice.
A green light explodes from both their wands, growing in intensity until I'm forced to cover my eyes for fear of going blind. When I look back, it seems like time is frozen. Both Fleur and Voldemort are in the same positions, except there is no sign that they are still living. It's like they have become statues. And then suddenly, Fleur's body falls to the floor like a dead weight, landing heavily on the ground. Voldemort is still standing, but the light that was once so prominent in his eyes is gone, and he looks, for lack of a better phrase, dead on the inside. And then, he too, falls.
And as I stare at their prone bodies, I am aware of myself screaming, "FLEUR!"
I rush over to her, tripping over the motionless corpses in my haste to make it to her. I don't even feel the pain in my leg now--all I can think about is Fleur. I finally reach her, but when I look down into those icy eyes, they're blank. There's no spark of life in them at all, they are… dead. It's hard to breathe. It feels like my lungs won't take a breath, like something is pressing down on my chest. All I can do is stare down into those glossy eyes as the tears start to fall from my own eyes.
A teardrop falls from my eye down to Fleur's face, tracking downwards, smearing some of the blood away. And, just as I reach out to wipe as much of the blood off as I can, she blinks. I stare down into her eyes still, my hand frozen above her face, wondering if I had just imagined it. She blinks again, and finally, life flows back into her eyes. And now it's even harder to breathe, for I feel like my heart just stopped beating, but at least I wasn't going crazy.
"H-Her-Hermione?" she whispers, her voice soft and breathy. "What… what happened?"
I am about to answer her, but then, I hear hundreds of voices, and people are rushing over to us, crowding around Fleur, checking her wounds, asking if we're okay. I suppose that Voldemort's barrier wore off with his… death? What exactly happened to the Dark Lord? Is he finally dead? I can't answer myself, because suddenly they are lifting Fleur from the floor and whisking her away to the Hospital Wing. They do the same to me once Madame Pomfrey sees my leg.
And now, all I can think is, will Fleur be okay?