NO MORE A PRETENDER~ {The Lestrange Daughter #3}

𝟏. Ready

TRIGGER WARNING; Contains violence directly involving the characters. Not terribly graphic but please take care if you are sensitive to such things.

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"Expelliarmus!" Beckett flicked his wand with vigour. 

Valentine waved her's in response.

Finite!

The spell was neutralised with ease and Beckett groaned.

"You're still too slow," Valentine said.

"Clearly." Beckett huffed, wiping at his brow. They'd already been at this for over an hour and even though at his age, he should have been performing all spells non-verbally, he needed all the help he could get. 

Around them, spells were flung and shouted, echoing across the grounds of the estate. It almost reminded Valentine of being back in school. If they'd spent their time at school training to serve Voldemort like good little lackey's, that is. Perhaps if she closed her eyes she could imagine it was all for fun or simply for the purpose of learning. But she didn't have time to close her eyes and imagine things. They lived in dangerous times and her friends were frightfully unprepared.

Leah and Blaze were to her right, trying to tackle the Shield Charm, something Valentine was quite proficient in herself. From where she stood she could see what each was doing wrong. Blaze's wrist was too limp, his casting lacking effort as a whole. While Leah had plenty of effort and enthusiasm but lacked any measure of control or decent aim.  

To Valentine's left were Draco and Liam. Liam had gotten a strong grip on his shield which only made things worse for Draco. He kept throwing everything he had at it but nothing could get through. Liam wasn't even a particularly strong duelist, Draco just couldn't focus and so couldn't get enough force behind his spells. 

"No, no, Draco." Rabastan tutted at the boy's side. He had elected himself as their teacher in a vain hope to get back into Voldemort's good graces. Valentine couldn't be sure if it was working but turning the young generations into killing machines was probably a good place to start. "You need to concentrate. You're doubting your own abilities and it's only making you weaker. Where's that Malfoy arrogance, hmm?"

Draco shot him a look but gritted his teeth and tried again. He wasn't weak and he knew that but Draco had never done well under pressure. 

"Bloody hell, Leah!" Blaze cursed aloud. "At least try an aim, would you?" 

"I am trying!"

"Look at these children," Beckett smirked over at Valentine, "can't even manage a simple shield. Sad really."

Valentine narrowed her eyes coldly at him and raised her wand.

Incendio.

A bloom of fire shot from her wand, not quite reaching Beckett but going just far enough that he leapt back in fear with a shout.

"Gahhh!

The fire died away and she glared at him through the rippling heat in the air. 

"Maintaining a shield is all good and well, but if you're too slow to hit your opponent back then you're dead. You don't get to gloat until you can move faster than a snail's pace."

"But you're too fast." Beckett groaned dramatically.

"No one is too fast." She scoffed at him. "Others are just too slow." 

That really did seem to be Beckett's main issue. He had solid spell casting and form but was slow as a brick compared to someone like Valentine. She knew if he was sent out into a fight that he'd have no chance against someone with swift fingers.