Sore Muscles

If anything else in the following days after the kidnapping of Damocles Belby, Reginald Prince had upped their training regime. (And rightly so, the wizarding world had not protested the increased daily policing patrols in Diagon Alley even the purebloods. It was a fantastic victory for the Ministry of Magic even if the illegal vendors of Knockturn Alley took a severe hit.)

And thusly so, Rowan and Severus were constantly, incredibly sore despite all the potion's they were taking to deal with the pain, and the warm baths they took both in the morning and in the evening to loosen their aching bodies. Stiff and sore, the two of them would return to the labs to work knowing full well that after lunch day, they would be forced to return to the training room all over again.

With a gloomy expression, Rowan and Severus ate a light meal, before heading to their bedroom to dress in proper clothing, before returning to the bare stone training room. Waiting inside is the stark figure of their grandfather, Reginald.

Reginald's dark eyes flash as he coolly says, "After some sincere pondering during the course last night, I came to the solemn conclusion that the two of you are lacking very real blood thirst. In our world, it is a benefit that is often quite needed in order to be cold-hearted. Neither of you require the sense of calm nor intelligence, but rather a certain callous nature that the two of you seem to be lacking."

Rowan eyes fill with a wary light as Severus narrows his eyes pointedly at their grandfather. "Exactly, what are you proposing, grandfather?" Rowan sharply inquired.

"The both of you will sincerely duel against me," Reginald matter-of-factly stated. "And I will not be holding back any longer except for the usage of any forbidden curses that is all."

"You're serious, grandfather?" Severus said in disbelief.

"Very much so," Reginald replied with a certain icy cold chill in his voice. "I will not hesitate to attack, and I suggest that both of you do the same."

Instantly retreating, Severus glances at Rowan to suddenly hear, "Everte Statum!" Severus suddenly feels his body airborne flying several feet back to only land on the stone floor. Letting out a painful groan, he rolls to his side trying to breathe, but keeping a firm grip on his wand.

The merciless figure of his grandfather marching towards him with his wand held high fills Severus with dread. All of a sudden, he hears, "Fumos!" As a cloud of thick smoke or a fog fills the area before him.

"Move!" Rowan hisses into Severus's ear as she all but hauls him to his feet and drags him back. It would appear that their grandfather had truly been going easy on them both in their prior practiced dueling sessions. And that was a most terrible thing to learn, because that could only mean that dueling was going to get worse from here on out.

"Well thought out, Rowan," Reginald commented in approval through the fog. "However, the downside to this spell is that you can't see me either. Not only that, but I can be quite silent when I wish to be."

Indeed, Rowan whirled here head this way and that craning her ears to the limit, but she cannot even hear the rustle of clothing nor muffled footsteps. "Well, bugger," Rowan thought to herself as she still held onto Severus keeping him close.

Red sparks from their left side cause Rowan to fall onto her knees to dodge as Severus does the same. Scrambling to their feet, they both fired back in the direction of the red sparks to only see the sparks emitted from their wands vanish through the fog, and the crisp sound of their hexes hitting the ground.

"Impedimenta!" A sharp voice said behind them.

However, to Rowan and Severus's dismay, they find that they cannot move. The spell cast by their grandfather had slowed down their movement to an almost freezing like state. They were sitting ducks and they knew it.

"And now the both of you are dead," Reginald calmly explained as he placed his wand at their backs." With a flicker of his wand, he vanishes the fog away with a blast of wind, before turning to them again. "What did the two of you do wrong?"

"I severely underestimated my opponent," Rowan grumbled.

"How?" Reginald further inquired.

"I assumed that my opponent would be thrown off by the smokescreen," Rowan said with a frown. "However, my opponent not only was not thrown off by the usage of such a spell, but even used it to their advantage."

"Correct," Reginald with a pleased tilt of his head. "In battle, an opponent can turn a certain victory on its head. Never underestimate the number of cards that your opponent possesses in his or her hand."

Turning towards his grandson, Reginald asks, "And you, Severus?"

"I did not counterattack, when I was thrown onto the ground," Severus mumbled. "Even if I was disoriented and breathless, I should have still countered with a spell to gain time to climb onto my feet and protect myself."

"Exactly," Reginald chorused. "You left yourself wide open to an attack, and had I used the killing curse on your prone figure on the ground, you would be dead, Severus, and as would you, Rowan."

Taking a step back, Reginald says, "You have five seconds."

Rowan instantly runs away as Severus retreats backwards firmly keeping his gaze on his grandfather, before casting a shield bubble spell.

"Bombera!" Reginald said as he points his wand at Severus. A ripple of sparks flies out creating an explosion as they slam into the glowing defense shield. The shield flickers for a moment, but still manages to stay up.

Reginald manages to hide the fact that he is impressed, and merely twists his head to the side as a hex harmlessly misses him and hits the ground with a fierce spark. Whirling around, Reginald says, "Stupfey!"

However, Rowan had already anticipated such a reaction, and says, "Petrificus Totalus!" The white flash of the body binding spell soars to ward's its target. There is a bit of a glimmer of hope in her eyes at seeing that her grandfather will be unable to dodge in time.

But as cool as a cucumber, Reginald brings up his wand and cast's the Hex-Deflection spell. The sparks harmlessly fly away as he whirls around and does the same to Severus's jinx.

"You have got to be kidding me!" Rowan privately thought to herself. "Is there nothing the old man can't do?!"

"If your opponent is especially powerful or good at controlling his or her magic, the Hex-Deflection counter spell will deflect a great deal of Hexes," Reginald explained as he calmly deflected their attacks. "Naturally, I will have to counterattack in a bit, but it should prove a valuable training experience to you both." (And since he could see magic, the spell was of actual great use to him. Anyone else would become a sitting duck or was a reckless betting wizard or witch.)

And it did much to the dismay of Severus and Rowan, who were left with their pride and dignity in tatters. Still it only got worse, because Reginald after that no longer voiced his spells, and instead only cast wordless magic. As it turns out, it is much easier to parry and attack when one can hear the curse that their opponent is casting. A rather handy skill to possess, but a difficult one to cultivate for a witch or wizard. But then again, it might just be a lack of common sense in the wizarding world, and that would not be surprising at all.