The Knights Of Walpurgis

Chapter Twelve: Harry's Training

"We begin... and we stop. Mr. Potter, you must concentrate."

Harry lay on the floor, aching in ways that he'd never before thought possible. It was only his second session training under the new Dueling Master, and he was already quite certain that he would have preferred facing an entire squadron of Death Eaters.

Alone.

Unarmed.

Wearing nothing but his underwear.

He rolled over on to his chest and slowly pushed himself to his feet. He looked around him, one arm clutched protectively over his ribs.

He stood in the middle of a triangle. At each point stood a member of the Hogwarts staff. To his right stood McGonagall. To his left stood Professor Flitwick. In front of him was Professor Sprout.

Behind him, he knew, as his right knee protested at having any weight placed upon it, sat Professor Griselda Marchbanks. Rather than go ahead with Hermione's suggestion that Harry work with a lot of different people to improve his chances against Voldemort, Dumbledore had arranged for Madam Marchbanks to come to Hogwarts indefinitely, although he had not told Harry this, nor subsequently explained his reasoning. The wizened old witch had arrived at the school within hours of Harry and Hermione's discussion with McGonagall, making Harry suspect that the headmaster had made plans for this some time beforehand.

Harry, having just been struck by three hexes from fully grown, well-trained wizards, was not entirely sure that this was a good thing. He was now, he had realised halfway through the first session, scheduled to face whatever trials Marchbanks scheduled for him every evening until it was felt that he was sufficiently capable of facing Voldemort in a fight to the death.

Madam Marchbanks had been one of Harry's examiners during his OWL exams a few months before, and he had thought that the old witch had seemed intelligent but a bit feeble. When Dumbledore had introduced her as the new Dueling Master, with overall responsibility for supervising Harry's progress and preparations for his battle with Voldemort, Harry had almost laughed.

She had already knocked Harry down so many times in their first two sessions that Harry had completely lost count.

"Take your position, Mr. Potter," Marchbanks ordered loudly. Harry turned to face partway between Flitwick and Sprout. He knew that he had to leave his back open to someone, and he had learned early on that McGonagall was not showing him any mercy, but a part of him still felt that his Head of House was a better choice than either of the other.

"Potter!"

Harry looked over at Marchbanks. "Yes, Professor?"

"Close your eyes," she replied. "And turn around until you do not know who is behind you."

Harry bit back on a sigh and did so, turning through several circles until he could no longer tell which direction he was facing.

"We begin!"

Harry dropped instinctively, and rolled. He heard a squeaky voice yelling "Flipendo!" and felt a blast of air as Flitwick's hex swept over him. Pushing himself upright as he opened his eyes, he looked around and waved his wand at Sprout.

"Expelliarmus!"

The spell slammed into Harry's hand with painful accuracy. He gasped and clutched instinctively at his numb hand, grimacing as he realised that McGonagall had disarmed him easily in the time he'd taken to find Sprout.

"Speed, accuracy, awareness," Professor Marchbanks said loudly, hobbling slowly across the triangle towards him. "We will work on all three, Potter! Be sure of it! You are a beginner of some talent, perhaps, and your luck has served you well until now! But it is best to ally your luck with knowledge and training and ABOVE! ALL! ELSE! TIMING!"

The last words were emphasised by sharp jabs of her cane into Harry's stomach, driving him backwards several steps.

"I have seen enough! You can go," she nodded to the other three adults, who made their way out of the room. Flitwick and Sprout gave Harry sympathetic smiles and shrugs which did little to make him feel better, particularly as Marchbanks' jabs had caught a bruise from one of the hexes that he'd been hit with the previous night.

"Now," she said, as they were left alone. "We have a few minutes more this evening. Was there anything you wanted to ask me?"

A dozen questions rushed to Harry's lips. Could she really train him to fight Voldemort? Did the Ministry know that she was there? Were all her sessions going to be this rough?

"Er," he began, remembering to speak loudly to the nearly-deaf old witch. "What are we going to learn next time?"

"I don't know what you're going to learn! Dumbledore thinks you can handle the full training that we put Aurors through so I suppose I might see what you can do on one of those! No-one can call me a cruel person, Potter, but you will learn to hate these sessions."

She turned with a surprising swiftness and hobbled out of the room, leaving Harry to tidy up the damage and debris from the lesson.

Crouched on his haunches as he rolled up the training mat, he didn't doubt the painful truth of her last statement.

*

"Alright, you three? Can you give me a hand after the lesson? Got some stuff I need shifting for the next class."

"Sure, Hagrid," Harry said.

After the lesson, which had involved studying kelpies, a type of aquatic horse, Harry, Ron and Hermione found themselves carrying heavy boxes out from behind Hagrid's hut. They were trying not to breathe in, as whatever was in the boxes did not smell at all pleasant.

"What is this stuff, Hagrid?" Ron asked. "It stinks!"

"Aye, it will at that," Hagrid said. "It's dead rats, Ron."

Hermione dropped her box with a loud clatter.

"Dead rats?"

"Yeah. I've been talking to Professor Dumbledore. He says that I can bring back a herd of hippogriffs to show the third and fourth years. Grawpy's been keepin' an eye on 'em for me the last few days, and they seem to have settled in okay. 'Course, they've been keepin' clear of the thestrals, but that's only to be expected."

"Why's that, Hagrid?" Ron asked.

"Well, they've never got on. Suppose it's to do with both being big flying things. Hippogriffs don't 'ave a lot of time for invisible critters that fly around in the same airspace as them, and thestrals feel much the same way, even if they can see the hippogriffs coming. So, they stay clear of one another, generally."

"Is Grawp okay with the hippogriffs, then?" Harry asked. "Isn't he a bit clumsy for them?"

"Nah. The ones I bought in are used to giants, I made sure of that. They were bred by the lot that're coming down over Christmas."

"Is that when they're coming? Will we get a chance to see them?" Hermione said, revulsion at the dead rats forgotten.

"No," Hagrid said firmly. "They're gonna arrive at night and go straight inta the Forest. The only ones allowed in the Forest are me and Dumbledore. Not even Professor McGonagall wants to risk going in there. We're having trouble with the centaurs as it is, and I'm not risking it getting any worse by you lot going in there, especially not you two," he added, pointing at Harry and Hermione. "The centaurs have long memories, and they don't want ter see you two anywhere near the Forest again."

"I don't particularly want to see them, either," Harry said, as Hermione nodded her agreement with feeling.

"What do you reckon to a bunch of giants living in the forest, then?" Ron asked as they made their way indoors.

"I think it's wonderful that we're prepared to take in some non-humans," Hermione said. "It should show other races that Hogwarts is the place where the truly understanding wizards are, and that anyone who sides with us will be protected."

"Yeah, I guess," Harry said.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked.

"I don't know," Harry said. "Doesn't it seem weird, though? Hagrid said last year that the giants were really vicious, and that there were hardly any of them left alive who listened to him. Now there's so many of them that they can send us a herd of hippogriffs as a gift? The other giants can't have just let them walk up and take them, can they?"

"Well," Ron said. "You of all people should know how easy it is to pinch a hippogriff when you set your mind to it."

Harry laughed, and they made their way back up to Gryffindor Tower.

*

"So you're learning to fight like an Auror?" Ginny asked.

Harry nodded, rubbing his hands together to try and warm them up. They were halfway to Hogsmeade, and he had forgotten his gloves. The cold, late autumn air was being gusted hither and thither by a sharp, biting wind that was whipping tendrils of Ginny's hair from underneath her woolly hat and blowing them around her head.

"And more, too, I think," he replied, blowing on his hands. "I think they reckon an Auror wouldn't be able to fight Voldemort, so I've got to learn other stuff as well."

"Like what?"

"Professor Marchbanks won't tell me," Harry shrugged, grimacing as the movement aggravated his stiff shoulders.

"Do you find that annoying?" Ginny asked.

"Yes," Harry replied honestly. "But what am I supposed to do? Complain because the person teaching me how to fight Voldemort is too rough on me?"

Ginny grinned. "You're learning to be reasonable, aren't you?"

"Remus suggested it back in the summer," Harry said. "As a solution if I ever find myself in a situation like that again, I take a few seconds to imagine the worst possible outcome, and how likely it is to happen. Then I think of a way to avoid it."

"And in this case?"

"I walk up to Voldemort, completely unprepared, and he kills me with a wave of his hand."

"Oh. And that's the worst possible outcome?"

"Actually, no," Harry said, rubbing the back of his head. "The worst would be getting squashed by a troll, or Kissed by a Dementor, or bitten by a werewolf long before I get near him. Actually just getting killed by him is one of the better possibilities."

Harry glanced across at her, and saw to his alarm that her shoulders were shaking.

"Ginny, I'm sorry. It's o-"

Ginny started to giggle. "Oh Harry, I'm sorry," she said. "But the way you said it, it just struck me as really funny."

For a second, Harry wanted to feel offended, but then a part of him realised that Sirius would have found it funny as well. He smiled.

"It's okay," he said. "I guess that it is pretty funny."

They smiled at one another for a few seconds. Ginny looked away first.

"Come on," she said, shivering as the wind picked up again. "Let's get in someplace warm."

*

They settled into their booth in the Three Broomsticks and sipped their Butterbeers until Harry regained some feeling in his fingers and the flush had gone from Ginny's cheeks.

"Where do you want to start?" Ginny asked.

Harry wasn't sure. He looked around the pub, seeking inspiration. Noticing Hannah and Susan sitting with Ernie and some other Hufflepuffs, a thought occurred to him.

"Okay," he said. "Why do girls tease everyone about who they're going out with?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, Susan was asking about Cho and me, and then she was going on about who Hannah liked."

"What did you say?"

"Nothing, I, er, left them alone."

Ginny took another sip of her drink. Harry could see the grin she was trying to hide behind the bottle, but decided against mentioning it.

"It sounds like Susan was testing the waters," Ginny said, toying absently with the label on the bottle. "Trying to find out if you still like Cho, or if there was someone else you liked."

"Oh," Harry said. He turned to look at the Hufflepuff group again. Susan looked up at the same moment and smiled at him, giving a little wave. Harry smiled back, then turned back to Ginny. "Why doesn't she just ask? I'd have told her that there isn't anyone I'm interested in. And why does she care, anyway?"

"Girls don't ask, Harry, because they don't want to be obvious. If they do like you, and you don't like them, it's embarrassing. Besides, they might only be asking for a friend, and don't want you to get the wrong idea."

"I think I'm getting a headache," Harry groaned. "What ever happened to being honest? It'd be a lot simpler."

"Honesty works, if you can handle the knockbacks. Do you know anyone with that much self-confidence?"

"Fred and George," Harry said immediately.

"Fred, definitely," Ginny said. "George is a bit less sure when it comes to girls. Can you think of anyone else?"

"Roger Davies," Harry managed, after several long moments.

"Ha, yes," Ginny laughed. "Daily Davies, the girls called him. He has self-confidence by the bucketload. But he's a bit sleazy, Harry. He's smart and charming, but he never stays with the same girl for long. He hasn't changed since he left school either, or so I hear."

"So, if you're not Fred or Roger Davies then you have to go through all this rubbish whenever you fancy someone?"

Ginny's eyes sparkled in amusement as she looked at him. "Lots of people enjoy it, Harry," she said. "Look at all the couples here today."

Harry looked around the room, and saw at least half-a-dozen couples. He frowned slightly, and turned back.

"When did Ernie and Susan get together?"

"I didn't know they were," Ginny said, craning around Harry to look in the direction of the Hufflepuffs.

"They're holding hands," Harry said.

"Ernie's holding Susan's hand," Ginny said. "It looks like she wants to go and he's trying to convince her to stay."

Harry frowned at this. He wanted to turn and look behind him, but at the same time knew that he'd have hated to have people poking their noses into his business. He settled for listening to Ginny's narrative.

"They don't look happy. Ernie's scowling, but he's let her go. Fat lot of choice he had, of course. Susan looks a bit upset, but angry as well. I guess they really aren't going out. Oh," she said. "Looks like Susan's coming over here."

Harry looked at Ginny in surprise. He was tempted to look backward but didn't want to look as though he'd been listening in on Susan's confrontation with Ernie.

"Hi Harry, hi Ginny, am I interrupting anything?"

Harry looked up and smiled. He noticed that Susan's cheeks were rather pink, but she seemed determined not to seem as through anything was wrong. He'd seen similar expressions in the mirror more often then he cared to think about.

"No, Susan, it's fine," Ginny said, moving along the bench seat toward Harry to make room. "Sit down."

"I just wanted to see if you were okay, Harry," Susan said. "You missed the meeting on Wednesday, and I... we just wanted to be sure that you weren't ill."

"No, I'm fine," Harry said. "I just had some work to do, and I lost track of time."

Susan smiled. "Sorry, Harry," she said. "You just don't seem like the sort to get that caught up in your work."

Ginny laughed, and even Harry had to smile. He didn't think that he could tell Susan about Marchbanks' Dueling Club, though.

"Er, can I get you a drink?" he asked, grateful for the opportunity to divert attention from his new training.

"Thank you," Susan smiled. "Pumpkin juice, please."

Harry made his way to the bar and waited patiently to order, trying not to overhear Seamus' professions of admiration for Su Li of Ravenclaw. Harry knew that the Irish boy had had considerable success charming his way through the ranks of the girls at Hogwarts, and distantly wondered about consulting him, should Ginny not be able to help him.

By the time he made it back to the table, Susan and Ginny were whispering and giggling as though they had known one another their whole lives. Giggling was another trait that Harry had come to hate in girls, especially when, as now, he suspected that the giggling was to do with him.

Harry sat down and passed Susan her drink. She smiled at him, and opened her mouth to say something, when her face fell. She was looking over Harry's shoulder, and looked both nervous and angry. Harry glanced backwards and saw without much surprise that the other Hufflepuffs had got up and were on their way out of the pub. Hannah seemed to be talking urgently to Ernie, but when Hannah put her hand on her friend's elbow, Ernie jerked it away sharply and pushed his way rudely through the crowd towards their table.

He stopped in front of them, looking very red-faced, but his voice was surprisingly steady.

"Susan, we're heading out now. Shopping to do, and so forth. Are you coming with us?"

It was as though Harry and Ginny didn't even exist. Ernie was looking at Susan alone, completely ignoring the Gryffindor pair.

"No, thank you, Ernie," Susan said, her voice under tight control. "Ginny and I are talking, and Harry's been so good as to get me a drink, so I think that I'll stay here for a while. I may catch up with you in one of the shops, if not then I'll see you this evening at dinner."

"Fine," Ernie ground out. "Harry," he said, turning away from Susan. "I was wondering if you and I could have a word, in private."

"Er, sure," Harry said. "What about?"

"Anything you have to say, you can say in front of me, Ernie," Susan said, challenging him.

"I wanted to talk to Harry about the HA," Ernie said, smiling brightly at her. "About defensive techniques. Nothing for you to worry about," he added, before turning back to Harry. "Can I have a few minutes after this week's meeting?"

"Yeah, okay," Harry said. "See you then."

"Wonderful," Ernie grinned tightly at him, before turning on his heel and heading back to his friends.

Harry stared after him for a few moments before turning back to Ginny and Susan. Susan appeared flushed, and Ginny was patting her on the arm.

"You handled that well," she told the Hufflepuff girl. "It's not your fault he was so rude."

"I just... Ugh, why can't he just accept that I'm not interested?" Susan said.

Ginny glanced up at Harry. He felt fleetingly proud that he had picked up the message in her eyes.

"I've got some shopping to do," he said, draining his drink and standing up. "I'll see you both later?"

"Oh, Harry, please don't go," Susan said. "I'm sorry. I've spoiled your afternoon."

"No, you haven't," Harry said quickly. "Ginny was trying to teach me about girls, but I don't think I'd have scored above a D, so it doesn't matter."

"I'll pick up again later," Ginny said, shooting him a quick grin. "He really needs the help, believe me."

Susan laughed, and Harry smiled ruefully.

"I'd be fine if people were just honest about what they were thinking," he said. "Anyway, I'd better get to Honeydukes. Ron made me promise to get him some Sugar Quills."

"See you at dinner," Ginny said.

"Bye, Harry. Thanks for the drink," Susan said. "And I'm sorry about Ernie."

Harry wasn't sure what to say to that, so he just smiled and left Ginny to deal with the other girl.

*

Harry left Honeydukes with several bulging bags tucked safely into his pockets. He was about to go into Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop when he was almost bowled over by Justin Finch-Fletchley charging through the door in the opposite direction. The door banged behind him, its bell jangling loudly, and a few people turned to look and laugh as he stormed up the street without seeming to see Harry at all.

The bell jangled again, rather quieter this time, and Hermione stepped out of the shop, looking rather pink cheeked.

"Oh, Harry," she said. "Er, did you see Justin?"

Harry nodded.

"Oh dear," she said. "I hope he hasn't taken it too personally."

Harry looked at her in surprise.

"Did you just tell him about Ron?"

"Yes. Oh, I didn't mean to! But he kept going on about how we were so well suited. Both Muggle born, both such good students, both petrified by the Basilisk, for heaven's sake. He just kept going on and on and eventually I blurted out that I'd already arranged to meet Ron for the next trip, and he looked so insulted. Do you think he'll really be hurt?"

Hermione took a deep breath as Harry tried to think of a tactful thing to say.

"Er, he probably wasn't very impressed," he said. "Did he ask you out then?"

"Yes," Hermione said, dropping onto a bench outside the shop and staring at the ground, hands clasped on the sides of her head. "Oh, it was so embarrassing. He kept getting redder and redder and I just stood there, trying to think of some way of letting him down gently, and all I could think of was what Ron would say and how if I said yes to Justin then I might never have a chance with Ron and then I panicked and... Oh, I'll have to find Justin and apologise."

Harry sat down next to her and patted her shoulder cautiously.

"You really like Ron, don't you?"

She looked up sharply, but apparently decided that he hadn't meant anything beyond simple enquiry.

"I wondered so many times if you knew," she said. "Sometimes, I wondered how you could not know, but of course you didn't. It took me long enough to work it out."

He waited for her to go on, feeling certain that there was more.

"When I heard that Mr. Weasley had been hurt, the first thing that I thought was 'Poor Ron'. Isn't that dreadful? Not Mr. Weasley, not the whole family, just Ron."

"I don't think it's dreadful," Harry said. "You're best friends, Hermione. It's natural, I reckon."

"You're my best friend as well, Harry," she said, "but I didn't think about you. Not at first. Even though I knew that you had to have been involved as well, somehow. Even when I learnt that you'd had another vision, it was still Ron that I..."

She fell quiet for a moment.

"Harry, I... I don't want things to change between us," she said at last.

"What do you mean?" Harry said.

"If Ron and I, well, if we, oh, it's so stupid!"

"If you two get together?" Harry asked.

"Yes. Oh, there has to be a less idiotic way of describing it then that. It sounds like something that Roger Davies would say about whoever he's with today."

A light bulb went off in Harry's head and he smirked as he remembered Ginny's nickname for the former Ravenclaw.

"Anyway," she said, sitting up. Harry had a feeling that she was willing herself to appear less flustered. "Harry, if Ron and I... Well, if we do, I don't want you to feel that it changes things between you and I, or Ron and you. We'll still all be friends, right?"

"Er, yeah," Harry said.

"Because I don't want you to think that I want to be with Ron any more than I do with you, Harry. I just feel differently about Ron then I do about you. It's like-"

"Hermione."

"-with you I've always felt very close but I can't ever imagine myself-"

"Hermione!"

"-being with you or doing anything that we don't do at the moment but with Ron-"

"HERMIONE!"

Hermione stopped and clapped a hand to her mouth.

"Oh!"

Harry struggled to think of anything to say that could possibly relieve Hermione's evident embarrassment. He tried to imagine what would have happened had she inadvertently wandered into one of his daydreams about Cho Chang the year before, and found himself colouring in sympathy with his friend.

"Well. Looks like we may have interrupted something. Does Potter bite, Granger, or do you just not like the taste?"

Harry turned away from Hermione, sighing inwardly as he rose to his feet to face Draco Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, who looked delighted to be tagging along behind the blonde Slytherin once more. Malfoy stared at him evenly, an all-too-familiar smirk on his face.

"God alone knows why, Potter, but half the girls in this school are supposed to want you. Couldn't you do any better then the chipmunk?"

"I thought that you'd changed, Malfoy," Harry said. "Your dad's in jail, Ginny hexed you and the HA blasted you into the middle of last year. Didn't you get the message? We don't have a lot of time for people who are out to make trouble?"

"Is that a fact?" Malfoy smiled. "Well, it seemed to me as though there were a few of your students who aren't so keen on your methods of teaching. I can't say that I blame them, either. How do you think your beloved Weasel friend would feel if he knew that you were taking it easy on me during our match?"

Harry looked at him in surprise. "What are you talking about, Malfoy?"

"I had a very busy summer, Potter. Of course, my father was in Azkaban, so it wasn't as though we were going to spend the days in the orchard practicing my Quidditch moves. No, I was writing every day, sending letters to my trusted associates, letting them know the plan for this year. How does it feel, Potter? Everyone important knew that I was merely trying to fool you, and they were eager to help pull the wool over your eyes. I must admit, however, that I never dared hope that it would be so successful. I had intended to keep my act going rather longer, of course, but it was such a sweet moment that I decided that it was time to come clean. Admit it, Potter. You let me catch that Snitch, Potter. Don't think I didn't notice that. You barely even tried. I heard you and Longbottom one day in Potions, getting all teary-eyed about my father being in Azkaban, and I do believe that you actually took pity on me. Well, I'll let you in on a secret, Potter. My father being in Azkaban doesn't mean a thing. Do you know why? Our accounts aren't frozen, our house has been left to us, and Azkaban itself? Well, it's not a bad as it's made out to be, if you know how to talk to the guards the right way."

"Don't be ridiculous," Hermione said. "You can't talk to the Dementors, Malfoy, everyone knows that."

"Maybe you can't, Granger," Malfoy said. "But my father has connections, and the situation is understood clearly. Of course, I wouldn't expect someone like you to understand that."

An evil grin came over Malfoy's face as he looked at Harry and Hermione.

"Credit where credit's due, though, Granger. You've just given me a wonderful idea on how to expose Potter as the fraud that I know he really is."

"If you're going to talk riddles all day then get lost, Malfoy," Harry said. "And you're wrong about the match. I don't take it easy on anyone. You got lucky, Malfoy, I'll grant you that, but I take everyone I face seriously, doesn't matter if it's Quidditch or anything else. I'll admit that you had me fooled, I really thought that you'd changed, but I didn't feel sorry for you, and I certainly didn't let you win."

"Really? Well, I suppose that lunatic escapee of a godfather of yours taught you something, then. Good to see you've learnt from his death, Potter."

Malfoy was gone before Harry or Hermione could react. The blood pounded angrily in Harry's ears, and he felt his fingers twitch towards his wand, but he kept control.

Sirius wouldn't want me suspended, he thought, and felt a cool wave of reason follow the hot flush of anger. I'll make Malfoy realise what an idiot he is, one day, but I won't do it by hexing him in front of half of Hogsmeade.

Hermione was still gasping apoplectically as the last of Harry's anger subsided inside him. He reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder.

"Hermione," he said. She swung around to face him.

"Harry! How can you be so calm? Didn't you hear what that dreadful, arrogant, jumped-up little... Ughhh! Oh, I wish Ron was here! Malfoy would have been sorry that he dared speak to us like that!"

"Hermione," Harry repeated. "Getting angry with Malfoy won't solve anything. You know that."

"Oh... You're right, of course," Hermione said, deflating as she, too, let her anger drain away. "But it would have been nice to see Ron punch him in his stupid, arrogant..."

She tailed off, and they exchanged looks.

"I won't tell him," Harry said, feeling rather proud, again, at picking up on the unspoken cue.

"Do you think that I'm dreadful?"

"No," he said. "I agree with you. Malfoy will get what he deserves, one day, but if we just hex him now," Harry had a fleeting image of a young Snape, hanging upside down with his underpants exposed for all to see, "it's not something we'd feel proud of at a later date."

"You really think that he'll get his comeuppance?" Hermione asked.

"One day," Harry said. He grinned. "I'll bet you a Galleon that you're the one who gets him."

Suddenly Hermione stepped forward and threw her arms around Harry's neck. Harry jumped in surprise before putting his hands awkwardly on her back.

"We will win, Harry," she said. "And you will beat him."

She released him as quickly as she'd grabbed him, and smiled a genuine, happy smile that seemed to be an end to all her worries about Justin, Ron and Malfoy.

But Harry noticed that only briefly, for over Hermione's shoulder he could see Justin and Ernie standing outside Zonko's, and the expression on their faces told him that the little chat Ernie wanted would only involve defensive techniques if Harry were using them to protect himself from the ferocious looking Hufflepuff.

To be continued...