A/N: Here we tie up the First Task :) Please excuse my crappy google translate skills, but I felt that the champions would cast taxing magic in their own languages. If anyone speaks Bulgarian or French and would like to let me know how the spells would be properly translated, please feel free to tell me! :)
Also sorry for the delay, Fleur's part took forever to properly tie up!
[Viktor]
He tensed, the buildup of magic around his form now visible to any that cared to look in his direction. His wand was vibrating gently, it had been quite some time since he had last had reason to cast this spell. He nodded as the announcer called out to him, informing him that the preparatory time was up.
A flash of light, and a Chimera appeared, both lion's head and snake's tail roaring even as it materialized, Viktor's wand completing its sharp cutting motion as it landed.
"ADSKI OGŬN!" Viktor bellowed out into the near pin drop silence of the stadium as the audience reacted with pure shock to both the Chimera and his spell choice. A thread of flame issued from the tip of his wand, growing alarmingly in size, turning into a vast serpent of dark red fire that roared towards the now much less confident Chimera.
He barely noticed falling to his knees as the Hellfyre spell engulfed the magical beast, the infernal flames still issuing from his wand by an almost imperceptible wisp. He could hear naught but the magical roar of the Hellfyre and the choked screams of the Chimera as it burned, its' magically resistant hide not quite capable to the task of standing up to one of the deadliest spells on the planet.
He coughed, feeling the resistance from the Chimera disappear as it was finally consumed, reaching into the semi sentient mind of the Hellfyre and willing it to disappear. The fire seemed to nearly growl at him, rushing at him with jaws bared, stopping merely two meters from him before he managed to halt it.
Viktor had never sweat that hard in his life, with the purely malevolent eyes of the gigantic snake made out of hell flames staring him down, shrinking ever so slowly in size as he willed it to cease existing. The young man let out a stuttering gasp as the demonic flames disappeared, nearly screaming in shock as a bucket of icy cold water dumped itself over his head, sputtering as he took in the sight of a fully powered up Albus Dumbledore before him.
[Judge's Table]
It had been two decades since the last time Albus had seen fully controlled Hell Fire of any kind. The young man sweating and dripping with water in front of him would be one to watch out for. Not out of any sense of fear, but that sheer level of trust in his own mental fortitude to reign in the second strongest Hell Fire spell was truly commendable.
Albus smiled a terrifying smile as he reached down, grabbing the young man by the shoulder and hoisting him to his feet in one smooth motion. He gestured around him, the two were standing on a path of solid stone, a molten mess of rock visible for meters in every direction from the path the Hellfyre spell took from Viktor's wand.
"Congratulations, Mr. Krum. I haven't seen such an impressive show of control over that particular branch of Fire magic in well over twenty years. I admire your mental strength. Now, if you can stand, and aren't feeling too exhausted just yet, I'll walk you over to get your scores."
The young man blinked back at Albus, still a little too stunned following his incredible show of magical power and will, and blindly reached out his hand. Albus took it strongly, clasping the teen's hand in his own as he waved his wand, weaving a bubble of purified air and strands of water around them, then floated the entire assemblage over to the Judge's Table. Albus nodded at his fellow judges, and they started to send up their scores as he settled the bubble down.
Olympe sent up the much expected seven, her face showing her adamant disapproval. Igor surprised him not one jot as he sent up a ten, the two Ministry workers following up with a healthy nine from Crouch and a six from Ludo, who seemed to nearly quake in fear the second he took in young Mr. Krum's form. Albus sent up his own ten as the young man gradually backed away from the edge of panic and into his normal self.
Albus figured that facing down a ten-meter-long snake made up of the strongest flames in existence would do that to any reasonable person.
He watched as Igor leaned in to tell young Mr. Krum his clue of "not" before sending him off to the Mediwitch's tent. As young Mr. Krum stumbled off to be fussed over, Ludo called for the Beauxbatons' champion to join them in the stadium.
[Fleur]
As she stepped into the empty field, Fleur had to ask herself yet again why she decided to volunteer herself for this madness. Eternal fame and glory seemed like a bright idea when she was all safe and warm in Beauxbatons or in the carriage, but in the chilly halls of Hogwarts and in this stadium, she reflected that perhaps…this wasn't the best idea.
Not only that, but her prepared tactic of enchanting a dragon to sleep wouldn't quite work on a "herd" of Acromantulas, she wasn't even quite sure they would be able to hear her, since she wove her enchanted sleep through her voice. Instead, it would be back to basics. A pity she never read up on the Spider Repelling spell, it would be quite nifty. Ah well, nothing a bit of feu wouldn't solve, after all.
[Judge's Table]
As the young Ms. Delacour strode onto the field, Albus reflected on the surprises dealt to them thus far. He was privately glad he hadn't verbalized his joke of eating his own hat, not only would it be a crime against fashion! but, oh his fellow headmasters would hold him to it! The two champions that had dealt with the First Task already had put on quite a show, Living Wind, Living Water and fully controlled Hellfyre! Quite astonishing for their ages. He hadn't done much more than dabble in Living Elements until he was much older than these children.
[Fleur]
She scoffed as the bumbling, puffed up announcer told her that she'd have five minutes to prepare in just about the loudest way possible. She was French, not an alien. She understood English perfectly well, thanks.
And really the only prep work she needed for this was to enchant the air, which she could do in her sleep at this point. One built-up Zephyr-class wind curse and an Ares-class Firestorm spell and well…the spiders wouldn't need eight eyes to see it coming.
She felt a vague sense of an endless rage and bottomless insanity burning at the edge of her consciousness, and she knew that the Greek God of War was fully tuned in. The Ancient Greek mythological curses and spells escalated based off of the rough hierarchy of power in the pantheon, but the Deity-class spells took more than mere magical power to cast, even though they required plenty of that as well.
Deity-class spells required having a strong sense of self and purpose, since every time they were cast, the remnants of the God they were based off of…brushed their minds against the caster's, giving them a good dose of the wells of insanity and rage that had enveloped the Greek pantheon after the fall of Ancient Greece.
As if that wasn't enough, the caster also had to convince that remnant that the reason behind their usage of the curse was justified, entirely personalized based on the God or Goddess in question. The justification used on an Artemis-class curse would not be the same used for a Demeter-class charm.
If you didn't convince the shard of your cause, they would simply turn the curse back on you, ten-fold. More than one person had been driven completely, utterly, soul wrenching mad by attempting to cast a Dionysus-class torture curse, only to have the God turn the curse back on them for being misguided.
So she fed the shard the information it wanted, that she was about to fight for her life against a horde of elephant sized spiders, and that she needed nothing less than the full burning wrath of the God of War to take them out.
Fleur felt the rage mellow out for lack of a better term, before she felt a sense of agreement, her wand nearly thrumming with power as the God allowed her to cast the spell.
As the poor, poor Acromantulas were portkeyed in, they were greeted by the sight of an all-encompassing torrent of pitch-black fire, fanned to even greater heights by the French witch's Zephyr-class wind spell. Where the stadium floor hadn't melted following Viktor's Hellfyre spell, it now turned into nearly molten rock following the sheer heat carried by the Ares-class Firestorm spell. Fleur allowed a smug smile to appear on her face as the cackling madness retreated from her mind, the molten pool shimmering with heat, a testament to the power of her spell.
[Judge's Table]
Luckily for Albus, none of his fellow judges witnessed the small bead of sweat that crept down his nose before he managed to wandlessly banish it. It wouldn't do to appear like he could still be affected by the heat like the others, after all. People liked their heroes to be above such petty concerns such as "oh dear, that fire is too hot for me to stand next to".
Eyeing the young French witch's smugly satisfied smile, Albus turned to Olympe and raised a single eyebrow, making her flush deeply.
"Greek God spells, Olympe? I thought France knew better after the 1548 Daytime Disaster."
He chuckled darkly as she sputtered some vague nonsense of self-study. Of course it was self-study! As if the spells hadn't been locked down with old magic so that they could only pass from Mentor or Master to Apprentice!
But no matter, young Ms. Delacour collected her hint of "to", which made her crinkle her nose in befuddlement; and her scores of ten, eight, ten, six and six, from her own Headmistress, Karkaroff, Albus himself, Bagman and Crouch respectively.
As the young lady marched off the field, Albus sat back into his well cushioned chair, wondering what young Harry would bring to the table in skill.