The Draconis Common Room was eerily quiet when the two finally returned after their excursion into the forbidden forest.
Crawling back into bed, and trying to sleep.
For Cassius that came easily however for Fleur she couldn't stop her heart from racing, at the knowledge that in only a few day she would be facing off against a dragon.
Not that she hadn't already been training with Norberta and Serephina but they weren't fighting her with the intent to kill.
Could she handle the pressure of a XXXXX ranked magical creature actually bearing down on her with the intent to kill?
Due to their extra hours awake in the night, and Fleurs own inability to get back to sleep.
When Cassius finally woke the following day it was already close to noon, and only Fleur remained in the bed with him.
Her head tucked neatly in the pocket of his shoulder, an area of fierce competition during sleeping arrangements.
And one Fleur only ever got as a reward, or whenever the others got up first, giving Fleur literally minutes to spend in the #1 premium sleeping spot.
He just lay there staring at her sleeping face.
A bit spellbound as her half-veela features, and currently defenceless innocent face made him think very not so innocent thoughts.
But as if her battle training was active even whilst unconscious her eyes fluttered a bit before opening and catching him staring back at her.
Only she didn't shy away and duck into the covers, instead she simply leaned forward and planted a quick peck on her masters lips.
"Good Morning, Master."
Her voice almost singsong, though as was his teasing nature, Cassius reached over and lightly pinched her nose.
"Actually its Afternoon, my lazy little subordinate."
This was a title he finally settled on, since using a term like slave was not something he was comfortable using, at first Fleur disliked it so instead he won her over by making it an order, his first to actually override any of his girls.
With the majority of the school's students attending their afternoon classes, the spacious chamber sat almost deserted.
The ever-burning fireplace crackled softly, filling the room with comforting warmth while the enchanted windows overlooking the Black Lake painted dancing ripples of emerald light across the stone floor.
Cassius lounged comfortably upon one of the leather sofas, his elbow resting against the armrest while a notebook lay open across his lap.
Opposite him, Fleur Delacour sat with perfect posture, her silver hair cascading over one shoulder.
Months of training had subtly changed the Beauxbatons Champion.
The elegant noblewoman remained, but beneath that graceful exterior was now a genuine combatant.
She'd sparred daily.
She'd learned battlefield spellcasting.
She'd fought dueling specialists.
Most importantly...
She'd fought dragons.
Not illusions.
Not conjured constructs.
Real dragons.
Norberta's explosive aggression had taught her to respect overwhelming force, while Seraphina's intelligence had forced her to abandon predictable spell patterns entirely.
Even now, remembering those bruising training sessions caused her shoulders to ache with phantom pains.
Cassius closed his notebook.
"So."
Fleur smiled back at him, just happy to have him talking to her.
"The First Task."
Her expression immediately became serious.
"I believe I am prepared Master."
Cassius tilted his head.
"If we each are given one of the dragons we saw last night, how would you take on the task?"
She barely needed to think.
"I overpower ze dragon."
Cassius blinked.
"...That's your plan?"
She nodded confidently.
So when faced with a dragon after only two short months of grueling training and improvement she's instantly fallen back to Pre-WW1 France with an Offensive doctrine of, Attack, Attack, and then Attack some more…
"I have improved considerably. My shields are stronger, my transfiguration more refined, and my offensive magic far greater zan before. I simply overpower until the beast succumbs or surrenders to me."
Silence.
Cassius stared.
Fleur smiled proudly.
Then—
Thump.
His notebook landed squarely against her forehead, as the young man shot to his feet in a flash and lightly dropped the book on her.
"...Ow."
"No."
She rubbed her head feeling as if the light action of the book didn't accurately correspond with the intense pain she had felt in that exact moment of the strike.
"...No?"
"No."
Cassius began to illustrate why.
"That is exactly what every other champion is going to attempt, or at least that's exactly what Krum would do, Harry… well he'll probably just run away a lot."
He began pacing before her.
"And don't even get me started on what I'm going to be doing."
Fleur giggled.
Cassius continued.
"The judges are going to be looking for specifics, how you approach the task, how well you complete the objective they set, was there any collateral damage, do you yourself sustain injury, what about if the dragon itself cannot be fatally harmed, or even rendered disabled lest you be docked points?"
He spread his arms dramatically.
"This tournament is like a performance, you can't end it to soon, otherwise the audience will feel cheated and the judges will have to little to actual judge you on, while you cannot also take to long, as it will appear your struggling and each passing second begins bleeding your perfect score away."
He suddenly stopped directly before her.
"So why," he asked slowly, "would you only give them the most boring of performances by simply casting one attack spell after another?"
Fleur frowned.
"...Because...?"
Cassius sighed.
"My dear Fleur..."
He tapped the side of his head.
"A dragon isn't merely a monster. It's a magical creature. A highly intelligent magical creature."
She blinked.
"...Yes?"
"And what are you?"
"...A witch?"
He pinched the bridge of his nose.
"No."
She thought again.
"...French?"
"...Half."
He offered up as a clue.
"...Beautiful?"
"...Dangerously close."
She smiled smugly.
"...Part Veela?"
"There we are."
Understanding slowly dawned across her face.
"...Master..."
He smiled.
"What is the greatest weapon you possess?"
"My magic?"
"No."
"My wand?"
"No."
"My training?"
"No."
She stared blankly.
"My...body?"
Cassius laughed.
"No."
He leaned forward to finally give her the answer she was missing.
"Your voice."
Fleur froze.
"My... Voice?"
He resumed pacing.
"You've spent months learning to fight like a wizard."
"Which is good."
"But you've forgotten the one thing none of your competitors can imitate."
He pointed directly at her.
"Your Veela heritage. In other words your Racial skills themselves, just like how I probably will be utilizing Draconic in my own battle at some point."
Her eyes widened.
"You want me... ...to sing."
Silence.
Complete silence.
Then Fleur burst into laughter.
"...You're joking."
"I'm entirely serious."
"You cannot possibly expect me to..."
"I expect you to enchant an audience of hundreds of young schoolboys, of attending ministry officials, reporters, and professors."
She stopped laughing realizing this was not a joke, and he was speaking seriously.
"...What?"
"Think about it, with your natural power, you could entrance the audience, the judges, hell maybe even the dragon into becoming absolutely smitten with you."
He smiled.
"Make the dragon into your own personal puppy dog, and just do what needs to be done to complete the objective."
Fleur slowly dipped her head in thought.
"...Master... ...You're insane."
"Possibly. But tell me. When have I ever lied to you before?"
...
Fleur opened her mouth.
Then closed it again.
Because she genuinely couldn't think of one single moment, even years back when she'd challenged him after losing their first ever duel, he hadn't lied or committed to anything, just wished her luck.
Cassius continued.
"But a dragon as you already know is highly resistant to magic, so all the while you're trying to entrance it with your voice, and allure it will no doubt be resisting you while also launching counter attacks and so."
He raised a finger.
"You need to win with chantless casting all the while you are singing to beast into submissions. Win the hearts and minds of the entire crowd, and you will be a champion like no other Fleur."
Fleur stared.
The image alone... the one he was depicting for her, It was beautiful.
"...They'll remember it."
Cassius nodded.
...
The following day, rehearsals consumed nearly every spare moment Fleur possessed.
Not spell rehearsals.
Breathing.
Rhythm.
Magical projection.
Cassius patiently corrected tiny imperfections, while Grindelwald happily assisted his young protégé in guiding a form of overlooked magic to create something new in the world of magic.
"Don't force the charm."
"Guide it."
"Again."
She sang.
Again, and again, and again.
All the while Cassius was her opponent, he wasn't going all out, but was flinging quick painful jinx's that would make her feel some real pain if they hit.
At first her success at chantless spells was miserable, getting struck again and again.
However as if learning from each failure she quickly started to get the hang of it, first successfully raising a protego shield charm, before later even launching a few simple disarming spells to counter attack, all the while her melodic voice continued to flow through the air.
Even Grindelwald himself looked to be slightly captivated, or perhaps he was just glowing with glee at being able to dine next to Albus again at the breakfast table this morning.
By evening even the portraits within their assigned practice room had unconsciously gathered together simply to listen.
One elderly witch wiped away tears.
"You my dear are an angel..."
Cassius merely smiled.
Tommorow was the arrival of the first challenge, and with only a few days to really prepare, would this makeshift battleplan really payoff?
Well at the very least even if it fails partway through it will make her stand out more from the other two.
The morning of the First Task dawned crisp and cold.
The Daily Prophet that had arrived the day before was still being circulated amonst the students more so than even the newer copies being delivered today.
Harry Potter's photograph stared back from nearly every front page.
Accusations.
Speculation.
Rita Skeeter's latest masterpiece had painted Harry as an arrogant glory seeker desperate for fame.
Evening managing to dig up some speculation about the boy being jealous of Cassius another Hogwarts champion, the boy who had everything at school, everything except for the fame wrapped around Harry himself.
It was clear to Cassius that Rita was indeed keeping her word but even still was pressing herself right up against the line they had drawn without crossing it.
Which honestly worked out in Cassius's favor.
If he wanted to get back at Lily Evans, the easiest way was through her son.
Just like in Canon as a result of the released article and the sheep like behaviour of your average citizen of the modern world, they ate up every single word, and Harry found himself isolated, even more so than canon in fact since, Neville was Hufflepuff, while the Slytherins naturally avoided him to begin with.
Ron as well, turned his back on Harry due to his own misplaced jealousy.
Which the sight of the red haired boy practically pining away for Harry at the Griffindor table in the great hall, had him almost wishing there was a substitute rule allowing for a second, to take a champions place in any task kind of like with old school muggle dueling.
Watch Ron who wants fame and attention more than anything get exactly that as he becomes the first Hogwarts student to become a pile of ash courtesy of Dragonflame in the schools long storied history.
Though he didn't have to worry about Harry himself, sure he was feeling social neglect and isolation, but he should be used to that after years of living with the Dursleys.
Instead of relying entirely on his friends throughout the trials, Harry would have Lily helping him out, and most likely Dumbledore would also get involved probably declaring himself as Harry's coach if ever his involvement was found out.
Which probably was against the rules seeing as how the Headmaster was also one of the esteemed judges.
So while Harry would succeed, he wouldn't be as good as Cassius, hell he'd probably struggle to keep up with Fleur herself.
So with breakfast quickly devoured, and a packed schedule for the day itself, Cassius quickly gave his farewells to the girls who all of which professed their well wishes and good lucks to him.
Leaving only Fleur who happily waiting like an assistant, for him to depart before she slyly wrapped her arm into his and pulling her body close.
The two walking off through the doors of the great hall, two Triwizard champions headed off to the designated point they'd been told about, while the other students would be heading over to the quidditch grounds where the new stadium to house the dragons had been constructed.
The prep work was complete, the foundations lain.
What came next wasn't going to just be a performance or a show, it would be a signed letter of intent, and practically a non-verbal declaration of war against any who chose to stand in his way.