Matt's training was brutal.
Harry wasn't sure what he'd told Tony – or Foggy, for that matter – but he had been staying in a spare room in the huge Malibu house for two and a half weeks now, and Harry had the bruises to prove it. Despite having absolutely no martial arts experience whatsoever – unless you counted stabbing a snake with a sword one time, which Harry didn't, particularly considering the consequences – Matt had started teaching Harry to fight by attacking him with chains or billy clubs or knives and critiquing his form, leaving Harry with a plethora of injuries.
That they healed so quickly only seemed to push Matt into pressing Harry harder, pushing him further and for longer each day. As painful as it was, Harry couldn't deny that his teaching method was effective, and his skills developed at a rapid rate. The strength and agility he had built up using Dudley's punch bag quickly returned, and his quick reflexes honed by 2 years of quidditch only helped him improve.
As well as teaching him to fight, Matt taught Harry how to deal with the huge quantity of sensory stimuli he received, and to use it like he had been to locate people and objects; listening out for breathing, detecting the minute changes in temperature and vibrations in the air.
Using the changes in a person's body temperature and heart rate, Matt could tell if a person was lying. He had learnt to differentiate different fabrics by touch, and could diagnose a variety of injuries including broken bones and kidney failure.
At first, Matt seemed to alternate between brutal martial arts training, and then remembering that Harry had been kidnapped when he was twelve and tortured for 16 months, suddenly changing tactics and focusing on meditating or slowly developing and utilising his enhanced senses. It was as if Matt thought he would break or quit if pushed too hard too soon.
Matt also taught Harry to swim and to use his heightened senses underwater: Sound travelled much clearer and faster in water than it did through air, but also seemed to come from all around him, disorientating and confusing direction.
Spending all day fighting and training meant that Harry hardly ever saw Tony, but the man seemed to have something else going on anyway. He spent the majority of his time down in the workshop, tinkering with the suit.
Harry felt a bit bad for basically ignoring Tony, but he wasn't complaining. He wasn't exactly sure why he was hiding what he and Matt were doing, but for some reason he hadn't told him or Pepper, who was over every few days or so.
Under Matt's direction, Harry found meditating somewhat easier, and was pleasantly surprised when he discovered that it helped him control his command of self-combustion. Although, he conceded, that really wasn't all that unexpected. But still, it was comforting to know he wasn't going to set his new clothes on fire when he got overly emotional.
That had been the one time Harry had managed to surprise Matt. Due to the magical origin of the flames, the only indication the lawyer had seen of Harry's increasing irritation was an elevated pulse and breathing rate, which after a bout of sparring wasn't unusual. Harry's body temperature was much higher than the average person's anyway, and although Harry had told him how he had ended up with his heightened senses, and Matt had been aware that he healed at an unnatural rate, he hadn't known that he could summon fire until Harry blasted a boulder with a fireball in frustration.
After that, they had spent hour after hour meditating and talking and training in ways that didn't involve fighting until Harry had more control over his 'gifts': In the large mansion and surrounding area, they tested how far Harry could hear Matt whispering, his reaction times, how many individual ingredients he could taste in each mouthful of food he ate, how many trees he could count standing in the middle of the forest.
They had started integrating the powers the phoenix tears had given him into their training too, flying and shooting fireballs at targets, as well as finding the limits of his enhanced strength. Matt had seemed surprised at first that Harry wouldn't wear shoes anywhere, particularly given how sensitive his skin was to the smallest of touches, but the soles of his feet were tough and he saw the advantage in not setting fire to footwear every time he flew.
Matt had also taken it upon himself to catch Harry up with the school work he would have missed whilst he was in Afghanistan, something that Tony encouraged and helped with when they both realised that he hadn't had maths lessons since he was 10 years old.
Harry went to bed each day battered, tired and aching, but determined to improve now that he was finally, finally learning to fight back.
"Karen. Karen. Karen. Karen." The automated female voice sounded from Matt's pocket and the two of them lowered the sticks they were holding. Harry was thrilled to see he wasn't as out of breath as he had been the first time they had fought like this, and had far fewer bruises.
Matt pulled out his phone and answered it, and Harry listened to a woman's voice sound over the tinny speaker.
"Hi."
"Hey, Matt."
"Is everything ok?" Matt asked. "How's the Shorter case?"
"What? Oh. No Foggy closed that on Tuesday."
"That's good."
"Yeah. We got their landlord to pay out, and the whole building's now on contracts so it can't happen again."
"That's good." Matt repeated. "So what's up?"
"Nothing much." Karen replied. Harry retied the scarf he had around his head and upper portion of his face like Matt did. The garment both kept his hair out of his face, and stopped the dark tinted glasses from falling off as he dodged around. It hit him that Matt knew he could shoot fireballs out of his hands, but had never seen his eyes and their unnatural irises. "You just got a courier delivery, and I was wondering what you wanted me to do with it. What even is it? It's massive."
"Can you move it into my office?" Matt asked. "It's a case I had to ship over from England."
"When you were over a few weeks ago?"
"Yeah." Matt said. Harry tipped his head to the side and he nodded. "I'm holding it for Harry."
"The kid Tony Stark adopted?"
"That's the one. I'll be coming back to the office in a bit with him so he can pick it up." Harry raised an eyebrow.
"...need a forklift to pick it up." Karen said, sounding like she was struggling to push his trunk.
"I had to put that thing in an overhead compartment on a train." Harry muttered. "She can push it a few metres to an office."
Matt grinned. "I'm sure we'll manage. Thanks Karen."
"I'll tell Foggy you'll be back soon."
"That would be great." Matt said. "It'll be Monday at the latest."
"We'll see you in Josie's."
"Sure." Matt laughed. "Bye."
"See you, Matt."
Matt hung up the phone and dropped it back in his pocket.
"So I'm going with you to New York then am I?" Harry grinned.
"It'll be a good test of your abilities." Matt replied. "Out here, there's only so much you have to block out and filter through. Plus, it'll probably do you some good to be around people again. When was the last time you saw more than Tony, myself and Pepper in one room?"
"Poor taste." Harry said. Matt just rolled his eyes and raised his white cane.
Harry had been fascinated with the cane the first time Matt had shown it to him. Whilst it looked like an ordinary blind man's cane, it contained 30 feet of aircraft-control cable connected to a steel grappling hook. Internal mechanisms allowed the cable to be neatly wound and unwound, while a powerful spring launched the grapnel. The handle could be straightened for use when throwing, and the whole thing could be split into two parts; one of which was a fighting baton, the other of which ended in a curved hook.
Harry's opinion of the thing had gone down dramatically each time Matt hit him with it.
Harry raised his own, shorter sticks, torn from a nearby holly tree. They stood staring at each other for a few seconds, before Matt moved, cane spinning in the air and swinging towards Harry's head.
Harry ducked, bringing his own weapons around to deflect the cane, then struck with his foot, dodging Matt's fist as the rush of air heralded the strike.
They exchanged blows, the clack of the sticks combining with Matt's voice as he coached Harry. Waves crashed against the cliff, the edge 25 metres away.
Harry ducked under a swipe with the cane, then shot into the air over Matt's head, landing slightly unsteadily behind him.
"Good." Matt said, turning. "Disorientate your enemy any way you can." He tipped his head slightly to the side, listening, then darted forwards. Harry parried the blows, bare feet picking out movements to keep him balanced. Matt's foot shot out, and Harry launched himself into the air again, the flames from his feet propelling him over Matt once more.
He yelled out in surprise when the cable from Matt's cane wrapped around his ankle and pulled him down to the ground. He landed in a heap, and Matt soon had a stick digging into his ribs in imitation of a knife.
"Don't be predictable. Mix up your attacks and don't do the same thing twice." Matt said, letting him up. "Again."
