To further reign in her frustration, Bellatrix also rationalized her constant defeats with the thought that, although Harry was a much better duelist, she herself was by no means a poor one. After all, from conversations she had had with him about the future, she knew that she had the potential ability to fight against him nearly toe to toe. He had also said that she was the most powerful witch he had ever known. That meant that if she could only get to the point where her chance of beating Harry in a duel was close to fifty-fifty, she could easily believe that she had realized her potential to be better than any other witch. But what about wizards? she realized. Harry had never told her how she stacked up to other wizards he had known.
Pushing these fleeting thoughts from her mind and returning her mind to the present, however, Bellatrix rolled away from the point of her collision with the floor, heaving herself up as quickly as she could while ignoring the pain in her nose and the blood steadily trickling down her face. Harry was standing in a dueling pose, already preparing to cast another spell, but Bellatrix knew that the blood on her face now caused him to hesitate. Realizing that he might choose to end the duel now that she was injured, Bellatrix lashed out with her wand to prevent it. If he was busy defending himself, he could hardly call an end to the duel. A shower of small purple orbs laced with black sparks of energy sprayed from her wand and converged on Harry, spinning around him almost like a tornado.
Bellatrix knew that Harry was familiar with this spell, but she loved watching him overcome it. Harry whirled, his wand pointed from him. Once the point of wand had travelled in a complete circle around Harry's position, leaving an orange bubble around him, he drew the wand in and stabbed it down toward the ground. Yellow spellfire marked a shockwave that exploded and pushed the orange shield outward. The expanding shield met the purple orbs and Harry was engulfed in an explosion of yellow, orange, and purple light.
Bellatrix shot half a dozen spells into the cloud and heard them bounce off another shield spell. She then aimed at the ground and shouted "Reducto!" The ground upon which Harry had been standing exploded.
Suddenly, Bellatrix felt an arm wrap around her torso, catching her wand arm and pinning it down. The point of Harry's wand poked her neck and she heard him whisper, " Stupefy ."
When Bellatrix awoke, she was, as usual, lying on the ground amidst a sea of violets. Touching her face, Bellatrix realized that Harry had scourgified the blood from her nose and repaired the break. Still, Harry stared into her eyes, concern written on his face. "I'm fine," Bellatrix said, disappointment clear in her voice.
"I know, Bella," Harry said, smiling down at her. "It's just that I have a hard time dueling with you when you're actively bleeding."
Bellatrix sat up. "We can continue."
"We could," Harry admitted, "but I think we've had enough."
Bellatrix suspected that he really meant she had had enough. She had come to realize that Harry hated to see her either tired or injured. "Maybe you could practice phoenix fire," Bellatrix suggested hopefully. "It may be the most useful spell you know."
"Yes," admitted Harry, "but quite exhausting."
"You said that now that you could do it without having to cast the image projection to see where you were going that it was better," Bellatrix said.
"True," Harry said.
Rather than try to argue with him, Bellatrix put an expectant look on her face and stared at Harry. Eventually he gave in. He picked up his wand, closed his eyes, and in a burst of flame disappeared. Bellatrix sat for several moments alone in their cavernous hangar. Eventually, another burst of flame heralded Harry's return, several feet from Bellatrix.
Harry trudged over and sat down next to her. "Well, I think that does it. I'm exhausted."
"Is there any chance that you could take me along when you use phoenix fire?" Bellatrix asked after they had sat silently for several minutes.
"I don't know," Harry said. "Maybe we'll have to try sometime."
.....
"It is not our lack of effort, Director," Rufus Scrimgeour argued vehemently. "You-Know-Who's attacks have increased in the recent months. With the population spread out so thinly across Britain, each call we respond to consumes more and more time. That, combined with the policy to have a minimum amount of aurors guarding the Ministry at all times during all shifts, means that we do not have the resources to respond to every attack."
"People are dying and, worse, being terrorized," Director Crouch barked, slamming his fist on the conference table that sat in the room next to his office in the Ministry's Department of Magical Law Enforcement. "If we cannot protect them, they will turn to You-Know-Who."
Scrimgeour rose to his feet. "What would you have us do?" he demanded angrily.
Frank Longbottom, an auror captain, took a deep breath, wondering whether he should intervene in the discussion. In point of fact, he had little to say, but clearly, the situation called for calm. The Auror Corps could ill afford any further loss of unity. At that very moment, however, the Office of the Minister made Frank's decision for him as a ministerial functionary entered the room and drew the attention of its occupants by clearing his throat.
"Yes, Weatherby?" Director Crouch barked, glaring at Percy Weasley.
"The Minister wishes to speak with Captain Longbottom," Percy announced rather stiffly.
"Fine," Crouch growled, waving his hand in a semi-offensive manner toward the Minister's favored grandchild and chief errand boy.
Hiding a smirk, Frank rose. Nodding to his fellow auror commanders, he then exited the conference room on Percy Weasley's heels as Crouch continued berating the leaders of the Auror Corps. He had seen criminals give aurors the bird with less contempt than Crouch had used in motioning toward Percy. Crouch treated most people the same way, but it was somehow satisfying to see the Weasley boy on the receiving end.
....
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