Xenith
Chapter Thirty-one
---
A/N1: Errr . . . first off I would like to apologise for the terrible translations given in the previous chapter. I used various translator websites. I only speak Spanish, and barely at that.
A/N2: Secondly, I don't believe I have explained myself enough on why Harry needs to learn all of this. Harry is being covertly trained as a War Mage without the Ministry's notification. Part of the training needed to follow that path is an extensive knowledge of different languages, extreme athletic ability, and knowledge and whatnot. I hope this chapter isn't so doofy that it completely throws you off my little (now rather large) tale here. And I hope that this chapter helps explain a bit of the above for you!!!
---
"I have to learn gymnastics?" Harry stammered out, more stunned than he had been in quite a long time (which really was saying something).
"You will also take a short dance course, both to be followed up by martial arts training. All to hone your balance, agility, and muscle control." Professor Figg said, all business as she finished grading her first years essays on dark plants.
"Are you going to teach me then?"
"I am far too old to instruct a young, able bodied boy such as yourself properly. I would just hinder your progress and that's the last thing you need."
"Who then, Professor?"
"Harry, you must realise that the training you are undergoing now is Arch Angel training. Training much older wizards have failed, and even, did at."
"Arch Angel?"
"Yes, it's military training at one of the highest levels; above, even, Auror training. By the conclusion of this year we expect you to have completed Level One and the majority of Level Two requirements for Arch Angel registration."
"How many levels are there?" Harry asked, sliding into the desk nearest him and watching his Professor.
"Nine, and for most people all nine levels take the better part of eighteen years to complete."
"What comes after that?"
"Well, there's always the option of becoming a Seven Minute Man---but nearly anyone can apply for that job with only a year of some type of military and flight training under their belt."
"And what does a Seven Minute Man do?"
"They're basically the bait to capture criminals, lure dark beasts, or practice dummies for experimental curses. They're called 'Seven Minute Men' because they live an average of seven minutes out in the field."
"Have you ever done any of that?"
"I was a level Five Arch Angel for sometime, but then Albus called upon my services, first during the war against Voldemort and then to watch over you for fourteen years. I had to stop training and drop out of the program."
"Sorry 'bout that," Harry said, turning away from her.
"I was never on the SMM force however."
"Why?"
"I guess I was too selfish. I'd risk my life to an extent, but I suppose I could never bring myself to cross that line. You usually can tell who the SMM are, Harry."
"Really, how?"
"SMM receive a tattoo beneath their left eye of---"
"Three horizontal black lines? Tapering off towards the ear?"
"Yes, how'd you know?"
"Some of the Jameson boys had that tattoo; I didn't know what it meant at the time."
"It's good you know. Now back to the matter at hand. We have found a more than suitable instructor in your house so your late night excursions to the opposite end of the castle will no longer be required."
"Who's to teach me?"
"You are to wear comfortable clothing that you can move in and meet her in the common room at twelve o'clock every night until she believes you capable enough to practice on your own."
"Who am I to meet, Professor?"
"She has asked me not to reveal her name to you at the moment, Harry. Apparently, she is quite nervous to be working with you."
"Does she know? About me being a Mage, I mean?"
"No, not _exactly_, but Albus believes that she is quite intelligent and may have figured it out already. She is also the only one Albus believes fully able to teach you properly.
---
"Hey, Harry, my man," Fred said, bouncing onto the sofa on his left.
"How've you been?" George said, bouncing on his right.
"Fine," Harry replied, more than nervous at being trapped between the two pranksters but too polite to move away from them. "How are you two?"
"Great!"
"Just peachy!"
"But, down to business," Fred declared, his voice taking on a serious note uncommon among the twins. "Given your more than considerable contribution to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes in its earliest stages, we have made you our silent partner."
"Silent partner?" Harry said, relieved that they weren't here for product testing. "You didn't---"
"Oh yes we did," George interrupted. "And we've come to hold up our half of the deal. So, here," George handed him a small gold key and a blue and silver gilt box tied in elaborate silver ribbon and bearing the name 'Enchantawear' in curly glowing script.
"What are these?"
"The key is to the WWW vault in Gringotts," Fred explained.
"And those are Ronniekinns' dress robes," George said, tapping the box. "We'd appreciate it if you'd give them to him come Christmas."
"That's fine, but I can't take this key," he tried, futilely, to push the key back into Fred's hand.
"No, no, no, we insist. We want you to be a full partner." Fred and George got up and started towards the boys stairs. Fred turned back to him, asking: "Oi, Harry?"
"Yes?"
"How many times has Ron been caught beneath our mistletoe?"
"Nine, all with Hermione," Harry grinned at the two.
"Great! We've enchanted one of the sprigs to follow him 'round. Night, Harry!" Fred bounded up the stairwell.
"See you, Har!" George followed, equally enthused.
"Bye." Harry gave a half wave at the already empty stairs as he set the box on the coffee table before him, put the key in his pocket, and waited.
He was still a good half-an-hour early for his first gymnastics session so he occupied himself with watching the stray Gryffindors finish up their games and homework before making their way up to their dormitories with wide yawns and slow steps all more than ready for the Christmas holiday.
"Harry?" He heard a familiar voice say from behind him. "Are you awake?"
"Hmmm?" Harry replied, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and trying to remember when he fell asleep. "I'm up---Ginny?"
"Hi, Harry," she said softly. "Are you ready to begin?" she ran her hands over her hips and thighs in effort to rid herself of her sweaty palms.
"You're---you're my instructor?" He managed to stammer out, his eyes following her hands. She was wearing only a T-shirt she seemed to have grown out of years ago and grey athletic shorts that showed off her lean freckled legs.
"Yeah, is that all right?" Harry watched as she ran her tongue over her lips nervously. Harry was more than mesmerised. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, //She's Ron's sister. Get a grip.//
"It's fine, Ginny. Are you ready?"
"We just need to clear the area a bit. We need room to work." She answered in the same quiet tone.
Harry banished the sofas, armchairs, and study tables to the perimeter of the common room.
"We don't have any mats or anything, so this might be a little painful . . ." Ginny trailed off.
"It's alright. We'll just have to be careful. And I'm no stranger to physical injury." Harry replied.
"Well, we need to stretch first. I'll do it with you today and tomorrow, but then you should warm-up on your own so we don't waste any practice time."
"Right." Harry nodded and copied Ginny's movements as they sat together on the floor of the Gryffindor common room.
Harry was limber enough for a Seeker but nothing compared to Ginny.
"Okay, do you know how to do a somersault?" Ginny asked, rubbing her hands together as she came to her feet.
"Yes," Harry answered. "I think so, at least."
Ginny laughed. Her thick throaty laugh that was gaining the ability to make Harry go weak in the knees. "Go ahead and try it then."
Harry felt worse than an idiot performing his somersault over and over again under Ginny's watchful eyes.
"Good, Harry. Good." Ginny said, pulling him to hid feet. "Now, can you do a cartwheel?"
"Possibly." Harry drew out the word hesitantly.
"Don't worry, I'll help you." She smiled shyly and Harry could have sworn she blushed. "Go ahead by yourself first and then we'll work on perfecting it before we even try anything else."
"Okay." Harry said, taking a deep breath as he tried to remember what a cartwheel looked like. Harry gave the sorriest excuse for a cartwheel Ginny had ever seen and landed flat on his rump. She covered her mouth as a breath of laughter escaped her lips. "Well, you go then. I won't be able to do any of this if you don't teach me, _Professor_." Harry said, feigning anger as he stood up, running his hands over his backside as he made his way backside as he made his way back to Ginny.
"Well," she said, gathering herself. "You have to make sure you keep your legs straight, toes pointed, and elbows locked. Like so." Ginny's cartwheel was picture perfect.
"Show off," Harry muttered, jokingly, under his breath.
"Oh, come on," Ginny said, coming back to him. "I'll help you. Here, put your arms up over your head . . ." She was running her hands over his arms, her fingers resting over his biceps without even realising it. Harry shivered. Ginny leapt away from him, blushing like mad. "Sorry." She muttered.
"It's all ri---" Harry grunted, crumpling to the ground, one hand clamped over his scar, the other clutching his stomach.
"Harry!" Ginny shrieked, falling to her knees. "Harry, what's wrong!?"
Harry moaned, rolling onto his back, and passed out.
---
¸..· ´¨¨)) -:¦:-
¸.·´ ·´¨¨))
((¸¸.·´ ..·´ -:¦:- tbc -:¦:-
-:¦:- ((¸¸.·´*
Chapter Thirty-one
---
A/N1: Errr . . . first off I would like to apologise for the terrible translations given in the previous chapter. I used various translator websites. I only speak Spanish, and barely at that.
A/N2: Secondly, I don't believe I have explained myself enough on why Harry needs to learn all of this. Harry is being covertly trained as a War Mage without the Ministry's notification. Part of the training needed to follow that path is an extensive knowledge of different languages, extreme athletic ability, and knowledge and whatnot. I hope this chapter isn't so doofy that it completely throws you off my little (now rather large) tale here. And I hope that this chapter helps explain a bit of the above for you!!!
---
"I have to learn gymnastics?" Harry stammered out, more stunned than he had been in quite a long time (which really was saying something).
"You will also take a short dance course, both to be followed up by martial arts training. All to hone your balance, agility, and muscle control." Professor Figg said, all business as she finished grading her first years essays on dark plants.
"Are you going to teach me then?"
"I am far too old to instruct a young, able bodied boy such as yourself properly. I would just hinder your progress and that's the last thing you need."
"Who then, Professor?"
"Harry, you must realise that the training you are undergoing now is Arch Angel training. Training much older wizards have failed, and even, did at."
"Arch Angel?"
"Yes, it's military training at one of the highest levels; above, even, Auror training. By the conclusion of this year we expect you to have completed Level One and the majority of Level Two requirements for Arch Angel registration."
"How many levels are there?" Harry asked, sliding into the desk nearest him and watching his Professor.
"Nine, and for most people all nine levels take the better part of eighteen years to complete."
"What comes after that?"
"Well, there's always the option of becoming a Seven Minute Man---but nearly anyone can apply for that job with only a year of some type of military and flight training under their belt."
"And what does a Seven Minute Man do?"
"They're basically the bait to capture criminals, lure dark beasts, or practice dummies for experimental curses. They're called 'Seven Minute Men' because they live an average of seven minutes out in the field."
"Have you ever done any of that?"
"I was a level Five Arch Angel for sometime, but then Albus called upon my services, first during the war against Voldemort and then to watch over you for fourteen years. I had to stop training and drop out of the program."
"Sorry 'bout that," Harry said, turning away from her.
"I was never on the SMM force however."
"Why?"
"I guess I was too selfish. I'd risk my life to an extent, but I suppose I could never bring myself to cross that line. You usually can tell who the SMM are, Harry."
"Really, how?"
"SMM receive a tattoo beneath their left eye of---"
"Three horizontal black lines? Tapering off towards the ear?"
"Yes, how'd you know?"
"Some of the Jameson boys had that tattoo; I didn't know what it meant at the time."
"It's good you know. Now back to the matter at hand. We have found a more than suitable instructor in your house so your late night excursions to the opposite end of the castle will no longer be required."
"Who's to teach me?"
"You are to wear comfortable clothing that you can move in and meet her in the common room at twelve o'clock every night until she believes you capable enough to practice on your own."
"Who am I to meet, Professor?"
"She has asked me not to reveal her name to you at the moment, Harry. Apparently, she is quite nervous to be working with you."
"Does she know? About me being a Mage, I mean?"
"No, not _exactly_, but Albus believes that she is quite intelligent and may have figured it out already. She is also the only one Albus believes fully able to teach you properly.
---
"Hey, Harry, my man," Fred said, bouncing onto the sofa on his left.
"How've you been?" George said, bouncing on his right.
"Fine," Harry replied, more than nervous at being trapped between the two pranksters but too polite to move away from them. "How are you two?"
"Great!"
"Just peachy!"
"But, down to business," Fred declared, his voice taking on a serious note uncommon among the twins. "Given your more than considerable contribution to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes in its earliest stages, we have made you our silent partner."
"Silent partner?" Harry said, relieved that they weren't here for product testing. "You didn't---"
"Oh yes we did," George interrupted. "And we've come to hold up our half of the deal. So, here," George handed him a small gold key and a blue and silver gilt box tied in elaborate silver ribbon and bearing the name 'Enchantawear' in curly glowing script.
"What are these?"
"The key is to the WWW vault in Gringotts," Fred explained.
"And those are Ronniekinns' dress robes," George said, tapping the box. "We'd appreciate it if you'd give them to him come Christmas."
"That's fine, but I can't take this key," he tried, futilely, to push the key back into Fred's hand.
"No, no, no, we insist. We want you to be a full partner." Fred and George got up and started towards the boys stairs. Fred turned back to him, asking: "Oi, Harry?"
"Yes?"
"How many times has Ron been caught beneath our mistletoe?"
"Nine, all with Hermione," Harry grinned at the two.
"Great! We've enchanted one of the sprigs to follow him 'round. Night, Harry!" Fred bounded up the stairwell.
"See you, Har!" George followed, equally enthused.
"Bye." Harry gave a half wave at the already empty stairs as he set the box on the coffee table before him, put the key in his pocket, and waited.
He was still a good half-an-hour early for his first gymnastics session so he occupied himself with watching the stray Gryffindors finish up their games and homework before making their way up to their dormitories with wide yawns and slow steps all more than ready for the Christmas holiday.
"Harry?" He heard a familiar voice say from behind him. "Are you awake?"
"Hmmm?" Harry replied, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and trying to remember when he fell asleep. "I'm up---Ginny?"
"Hi, Harry," she said softly. "Are you ready to begin?" she ran her hands over her hips and thighs in effort to rid herself of her sweaty palms.
"You're---you're my instructor?" He managed to stammer out, his eyes following her hands. She was wearing only a T-shirt she seemed to have grown out of years ago and grey athletic shorts that showed off her lean freckled legs.
"Yeah, is that all right?" Harry watched as she ran her tongue over her lips nervously. Harry was more than mesmerised. He shook his head to clear his thoughts, //She's Ron's sister. Get a grip.//
"It's fine, Ginny. Are you ready?"
"We just need to clear the area a bit. We need room to work." She answered in the same quiet tone.
Harry banished the sofas, armchairs, and study tables to the perimeter of the common room.
"We don't have any mats or anything, so this might be a little painful . . ." Ginny trailed off.
"It's alright. We'll just have to be careful. And I'm no stranger to physical injury." Harry replied.
"Well, we need to stretch first. I'll do it with you today and tomorrow, but then you should warm-up on your own so we don't waste any practice time."
"Right." Harry nodded and copied Ginny's movements as they sat together on the floor of the Gryffindor common room.
Harry was limber enough for a Seeker but nothing compared to Ginny.
"Okay, do you know how to do a somersault?" Ginny asked, rubbing her hands together as she came to her feet.
"Yes," Harry answered. "I think so, at least."
Ginny laughed. Her thick throaty laugh that was gaining the ability to make Harry go weak in the knees. "Go ahead and try it then."
Harry felt worse than an idiot performing his somersault over and over again under Ginny's watchful eyes.
"Good, Harry. Good." Ginny said, pulling him to hid feet. "Now, can you do a cartwheel?"
"Possibly." Harry drew out the word hesitantly.
"Don't worry, I'll help you." She smiled shyly and Harry could have sworn she blushed. "Go ahead by yourself first and then we'll work on perfecting it before we even try anything else."
"Okay." Harry said, taking a deep breath as he tried to remember what a cartwheel looked like. Harry gave the sorriest excuse for a cartwheel Ginny had ever seen and landed flat on his rump. She covered her mouth as a breath of laughter escaped her lips. "Well, you go then. I won't be able to do any of this if you don't teach me, _Professor_." Harry said, feigning anger as he stood up, running his hands over his backside as he made his way backside as he made his way back to Ginny.
"Well," she said, gathering herself. "You have to make sure you keep your legs straight, toes pointed, and elbows locked. Like so." Ginny's cartwheel was picture perfect.
"Show off," Harry muttered, jokingly, under his breath.
"Oh, come on," Ginny said, coming back to him. "I'll help you. Here, put your arms up over your head . . ." She was running her hands over his arms, her fingers resting over his biceps without even realising it. Harry shivered. Ginny leapt away from him, blushing like mad. "Sorry." She muttered.
"It's all ri---" Harry grunted, crumpling to the ground, one hand clamped over his scar, the other clutching his stomach.
"Harry!" Ginny shrieked, falling to her knees. "Harry, what's wrong!?"
Harry moaned, rolling onto his back, and passed out.
---
¸..· ´¨¨)) -:¦:-
¸.·´ ·´¨¨))
((¸¸.·´ ..·´ -:¦:- tbc -:¦:-
-:¦:- ((¸¸.·´*