Fleur Delacour was sparring with her dueling instructor when she found out she was to meet a guest that morning.
"Petrificus Totalus," she yelled out from a roll, while just barely avoiding the stunner that was flying towards her face. After Transfiguring the ground in front of her into a defensive wall, Fleur strafed to the right so that when she emerged she was already casting a silent triplet of Confringo blasting curses. Her duel instructor danced right and then dove into a roll, during which time he still managed to shoot off several stunner spells in rapid succession. Fleur threw up a silent Protego shield to block the spells, before summoning several birds to attack her trainer.
By this point their spar had been going on for nearly half an hour and both of them were sweating heavily into their training clothing. Fleur took great pride in the fact that she was pushing back this honored duelist. That is, until she suddenly slipped on an oil slick she hadn't noticed her opponent casting and very suddenly her feet were above her in the air. While on the one hand Fleur did manage to fall as she'd been taught and she was still prepared to move, it was already too late. Even as she tried to roll to the side, an Expelliarmus caught her in the arm and her wand flew out of her hand.
"Good, good," yelled out the burly man, as he approached Fleur at a jog. "Now... What do you think you did wrong?"
"Mr. Garner, I can think of nothing except that I did not see the oil," Fleur replied back, as she slowly rose back to her feet.
Mr Garner nodded and extended a hand to help the young lady stand up. "Yes, yes, you were too busy taking pride in your successes up to that point to witness my indirect actions."
After huffing in annoyance, Fleur looked chagrined at the implied disrespect of her actions.
After waving a hand dismissively, Mr. Garner grinned at his student's continual tendency to pout. "Listen, don't get me wrong Fleur. You're a remarkable young witch, but after pride comes the fall." Gesturing at the oil slick, Mr. Garner smiled at his own play on words. "Today was an excellent spar and you are improving at a truly monstrous pace. I imagine you'll be very, very prepared for this tournament you're so dead set on entering. I don't approve of you putting yourself in unnecessary danger, but you should be more than ready to take on any other student aged witch or wizard. Even going so far as to become fluent in English," he drawled to himself, in a voice laced with barely concealed contempt.
Although an amused smile had slipped onto her face, Fleur shook her head at her trainer's hoity toity French elitist principles (ignoring the fact that she was exactly the same). "Don't misunderstand me Mr. Garner. I am entering this tournament because I'm the best. I wish my school peers to know it, and become unable to deny it. I am tired of being called arm candy, when I am so much more than that. Rest assured. I have no interest in meeting some Englishman, if that is what you are alluding to."
Mr Garner laughed and nodded at that, but Fleur could still see that he was against the idea.
Suddenly, both trainer and student became aware of a hurried looking servant running down the lawns in their direction.
After taking a single look at the sweaty man, Fleur assumed that he needed her for something. "How can I help you, Arnould?"
"Huff, huff, huff, yes my lady, you can help me." Arnould looked a little worse for wear at the moment. "Your father calls for you, my lady. You are to receive guests this morning in your father's study."
The rather abrupt summons to her father's study wasn't a very big concern to Fleur for one very important reason. During her first year at Beauxbatons, Fleur had been harassed on a daily basis with random, pushy and one sided marriage proposals, until she'd finally approached her father for help. Ever since then, the men involved had been carefully investigated and then thoroughly dissuaded from ever approaching her…
Nowadays, if a man wanted to extend a marriage proposal to her they knew to go through her father first or they'd end up living in Siberia. Then again, it wasn't like approaching her father had ever worked out in anyone's favor either.
Not that such things mattered…
The fact of the matter was these boys were completely wasting their time. If anything, Fleur was incensed beyond measure by the very idea that she could be traded off like cattle to any of the lusting boys at her school. Not one of these so-called "sophisticated gentlemen" could even look her in the eyes, without drooling and unraveling like poorly made practice dummies.
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