Should he start? That was a good question. One who's obvious answer was NO. He wasn't going to start; he wasn't going to do anything. Left up to him, the two would stand there until a Professor came and made them do otherwise and even then, Blaise would stand there until given a reason to move--like this. THIS would make him move.
Just when the Second Year was beginning to panic about Chloe knowing non-verbals and his goose being cooked, she yelled a spell and out of nothing but raw reflex, the boy took a dive that saw him landing flopped on his belly. The breeze against his legs told him he'd only just barely escaped what might have otherwise been an unpleasant blast of wind.
Only one thing to say at a time like this. "Oww...." You'd think that after a year of living life on the edge like this, the boy would have perfected his dive but no it was always different. The spells he dodged weren't always the same. There was no way of anticipating it and it made him resent this whole practice all the more. Why did people have to duel? Why did they need magic? This was stupid.
Blaise pulled himself onto his elbows, still trying to catch his bearings. It was then that he realized Chloe herself had been taken aback by her own blast. No time like the present. If this worked, at least he'd have a wider area for running--if it didn't as was the case 99% of the time he cast, he'd just look like an idiot again. No big deal.
"Colloshoo!" He yelled, taking aim at her steadying feet. If there was ever a time to work wand...it would be now....JUST saying.