She was light on her feet - forgoing any sort of footwear in favour of going barefoot. Her tunic was off - only a tight swath of leather protecting her modesty - but none of the Winterfell soldiers seemed to care as she parried expertly and sidestepped another swipe from Ronald's dual blades. If Fleur was to compare Hermione's combat to anything then it would have been a dance. Her movement was fluid and her feet drew spirals in the sand as she moved - each step precise and all of her strikes hit, easily getting between the young Lord's defences with the precision of a snake.