5 Time To Prep, After All It's A Deadly Tournament
Wednesday 9th November 11:00 am.
The silver light entered the tree stump. For half a second nothing happened and Harry wondered if he had got the incantation correct. Then without warning the entire stump self destructed, getting blown to pieces from the inside. The entire area surrounding where the stump had once stood was showered with shrapnel, including our unlucky hero, who had no time to erect a barrier between himself and the flying debris. The spell worked even better than it was described in the tome where Hermione had found it. Looking down Harry winced when he noticed the blood from a dozen new cuts and grazes, and that his clothes even had some damage dealt to them.
He had found this spot on the edge of the Forbidden Forest two days ago while looking for a training area away form prying eyes. It was past the quidditch pitch, near the boundary of the property of Hogwarts and as such was not going to be stumbled upon unless somebody was purposely looking for it.
Harry didn't know why there was the small clearing in the wall of trees that made up the forest, but it provided a decent training area for the Triwizard Champion. There were a few stumps scattered around the 4 metre by 7 metre clearing, well three less than there had been this morning, and Harry had been using them for target practice. It always surprised Harry how aim was not a priority for many witches and wizards. It doesn't matter how many spells you knew, or how powerful the spells were, if you couldn't hit what you wanted to. It was a lot more work than just pointing your wand in the general direction you wanted the curse to fly in. Every curse traveled differently, not always in the straightest, most direct route, and knowing how they differed could be the difference between a positive outcome or not. For example lucidious, the curse he just tested, flew in a zigzag pattern with a difference of nearly a metre from one side to the other, and if you fired it at the wrong distance it could miss a whole person or target. His first two attempts had missed the stump, before he learnt the flight well enough to hit the target.
The larger cuts Harry addressed with some basic healing spells that he had taken the time to learn, and after a quick look at his watch got back to his work. When all but the last stump had suffered the same fate, Harry was starting to really feel the drain of the three hours he had spent practicing spells.
With a final "BOMBARDA" the last stump exploded, leaving only a fraction of its former size sticking out of the ground. Collapsing to the ground, the exhaustion washed over Harry as he realised the strain upon his magical core that using these powerful spells over such a period of time was having at his age.
/
Taking a minute to catch his breath and steady his shaking arms, Harry smiled as he recalled the last few days since his visit to Gringotts. The first surprise for Harry occurred before he had even made it to the lobby, when a goblin had come running up to him and Tinshield with a message from Findore covering something he had forgotten earlier. It was Gringotts bank drafts, the wizarding equivalent of cheques, making it possible to make purchases without visiting the bank itself to get out the galleons. Tinshield had been able to explain the safety features to the satisfaction of Harry, and he met up with Professor McGonagall without any further interruptions. The drafts could have the value of the purchase written out by anybody, but only became valid once Harry placed a finger upon the Gringotts seal which pricked him and caused a drop of blood to seal the draft. After the addition of the blood the value could not be tampered with, and any attempt to do so leaves the draft void. The blood had to be Harry's, from a specific finger of his choosing, which became locked after his first use of the book of drafts, and was run through a series of tests for potions that could influence the owner into making the draft against their will. If such a potion is detected not just is the draft invalid, but the whole book is locked until the owner visits the bank to show he is no longer under any influences. Unfortunately tests for the influence of the Imperius curse had to be in person, not on somebody's blood, and as such was a way around the protections in place on the drafts.
Despite his best efforts in persuading his professor to allow him to go shopping to test out his new draft book, she would not budge. She was happy to accompany him to the bank, but she was to busy to chaperone him on a shopping spree. She had things to attend to at Hogwarts, and wouldn't allow him to distract her here in Diagon Alley. So Harry and his escort were back at the school before lunch and both went their separate ways to attend to their business. It was here that Harry had his second shock, when he didn't have a message waiting for him asking him to attend to the Headmaster. It wasn't until he was having lunch with his girlfriend that he found out that the reason for this was that Dumbledore had been called out to an emergency meeting of the ICW not long after Harry had left with the transfiguration professor. They spent the afternoon just spending time with one another before Harry finally shared with her that night all about his trip to the bank.
Sunday had been spent in the library, with Hermione helping Harry catch up on the school work he had missed the few lessons he had skipped the previous week. Monday however was different, with the new week came a return to classes for Hermione, who had missed four classes helping her best friend during the previous week. Having a double potion lecture first thing on a Monday was not to Harry's liking and instead he had gone searching for a training area, which was how he discovered the grove he was currently in. Following Hermione's insistence Harry had joined the afternoon classes which led to Harry booking his first training session with Professor Flitwick for last period on Wednesday afternoon. A remarkably uneventful Tuesday led to his exciting morning of training and where he currently was seated on the ground.
/
Looking at his watch, the Gryffindor stood up realising he would have to hurry if he was to shower before meeting Hermione for a picnic lunch. Luckily the quidditch pitch was not far, and was where he stashed a towel and change of uniform earlier as the bathroom he planned to use was the changing rooms there. With a final look around the clearing, letting a sense of pride at his mornings work to wash over him, Harry took off at a jog. Given that it was only a short trip to the showers he was planning to use, Harry was disappointed that he felt a little out of breath and realised that it was another aspect that he would have to add to his training, fitness conditioning.
Turning the shower he intended to use on, he stepped back to strip down while the water took a moment to warm up to a more comfortable temperature. Knowing that he didn't have time to waste, Harry hoped in as soon as the water was bearable and set about scrubbing the sweat, dirt and various other substances that had somehow managed to find their way on to his body during the mornings training session. Knowing that he had limited time, he set about cleaning himself as quickly as possible rather than enjoying the warm water running down his back.
7 minutes later he was dry, dressed and on his way to the knoll where they were planning on meeting for their lunch, with a skip in his step. There is nothing quite like a warm shower to refresh and rejuvenate, even a short one like Harry had just had, and the young Gryffindor was feeling in top of the world. Just as he reached the hillock, Dobby materialised to hand him a surprisingly heavy picnic basket before disappearing again. The lunch hour was always busy for the Hogwarts elven staff. The Triwizard Champion set about preparing the lunch, and was so engrossed in his task, trying to make it as perfect as possible, that he didn't even realise when Hermione arrived.
"This looks amazing! We will really need to give Dobby our thanks when we next see him." Her statement caught Harry off guard and made him jump.
"Hermione! Don't sneak up on somebody like that! You're likely to get hexed, or give someone a heart attack." Harry responded, after he finally got his breath back. It didn't help that Hermione couldn't stop laughing at him. Indicating a spot on the blanket, Harry invited her to be seated as he set about preparing a plate for her out of the food the House Elf had provided them with. They spent the next 40 minutes in light conversation, enjoying the time spent with one another, and being able to get out of the Castle and its bustling meals. Harry laughed and smiled and realised that this was probably the happiest moment he could ever remember. It was better than getting his Hogwarts invitation. Better than his first trip to Diagon Alley. And Harry realised that no matter what was ahead of him, with Hermione by his side he would always prevail, no matter what or who were assailing them.
/
Transfiguration had fascinated Harry in a way it never previously had. It wasn't because usually it was boring, or because McGonagall was a bad teacher, in fact she was an excellent teacher, but something in this lesson grabbed Harry's attention and just wouldn't let go. Unfortunately for his professor, it wasn't what she was trying to teach him, or anything transfiguration related for that matter. If you had asked Harry about what she had taught, he wouldn't have had a hope of telling you.
Hermione had captured his full attention. How she bit her lip as she concentrated on the spell work assigned by their teacher. How she ate up any bit of knowledge McGonagall dispensed, and yet always strove to learn more. Find more. Understand more. How quickly she took in the information and connected it with other things she had read, or learned, even it was from a completely different subject, and saw how they were interrelated. How proud she was whenever the teacher shared a word of praise her way, which was fairly often given how brilliant she was. Harry recalled how she had admitted late one night, in their second year, how Professor McGonagall was her favourite teacher ever, and someone she really looked up to. No wonder she was so entrenched in the lesson her idol was giving. However Harry couldn't afford the same luxury in his current class, despite his desire to once again focus solely on Hermione. Watching his diminutive charms professor as he demonstrated the particular charm that was the subject of today's class for a final time before informing the class that their homework was a foot of parchment on the applicational purposes of the charm. Harry joined the rest of the class as they packed up their gear, but he stayed sitting as the rest of the students left, including his friends, as they all had another class to get to before dinner that night.
"Shall we go next door Mr. Potter? I believe it will be better suited for our wishes." Harry was finally going to take his teacher up on the offer for extra, one-on-one tutorage and this was to be their first training session. Following the part-Goblin out of his classroom, down the corridor and through a door that he had never noticed before. The large, mainly spartan room surprised Harry, as did the duelling platform running the length of the room. "I used to coach one or two gifted students in the art of duelling, back when duelling competitions were still in favour, but after the war…" There was no need to finish the sentence, Harry understood. Turning back to his student with a wicked looking grin on his face, they started what would be the most draining two hours of young Harry's life
