And as fate would have it, they ended up in the final stretch. Together. Facing an acromantula hoard.
“Alright there, Harry?” She asked casually, batting away an acromantula with a spell with no difficulty at all. Fleur’s robes were pristine as could be for the most part, barring the singed corners of her left sleeve, showing how good of a witch she really was.
Now, Harry on the other hand was in a pretty bad condition. Slight burns were scattered across his body, and he struggled to catch his breath. His outer-robe was in tatters thanks to the Sphinx he’d encountered earlier. The mythological creature was surprisingly very trigger-happy.
“Perfectly pleasant, and you?”
“Doing just fine,”
A reductor curse found its way to an arachnid’s head, splattering blue goo everywhere.
“...Yep, just fine.”
Needless to say, they were doing just fine.