The next day, Antonia woke him up at six a.m. She rapped on his door, to be greeted by a groan from inside. She knocked again, and yet another groan was emitted from the male inside. She opened the door and screamed.
It was Ron, only in boxer shorts!
Hastily, she threw him a pair of pants. "Put some pants on, man! I told you to get up before six so we could practice!"
"No, you didn't!" Ron slipped one leg in. "You left running after I saw that music room thingy."
"I have no knowledge of that." She held her head up.
"Last night? You were arming me, and then you went into that room. I know you're upset because when you saw me you called me 'Ron'."
"Not ringing any bells. Get dressed, and come down with your broadsword." She slammed the door close, and left.
Ten minutes later, Ron came down the hall, the sword around his waist. Later the night before, she had dropped of a belt, that could hold sheaths. She was sitting at the table, eating oatmeal. He joined her, on the other side. She pushed a bowl of luke-warm oatmeal his way.
"Eat, it's all your getting till noon."
Ron choked on the food he just put in his mouth. "All?"
"Sometimes, you have to without food for days. Get used to it." She stated coldly, eating hers fiercely.
Ron laughed.
"What is funny?"
"You just sounded so like my friend Hermione is wasn't even funny." Ron managed to say.
"And yet you are laughing."
That shut him up. As her head was turned, he made a face at her. She turned.
Her eyebrows raised at Ron's distorted face, and then smirked. "So mature." She stood, and walked out.
A few minutes later, Ron emerged into the enormous backyard she had. Antonia stood, waiting for him. He approached with caution, since she had a mildly hot temper at the moment and a very long swords in each hand.
"Take your place. It's right there." She indicated to in front of her.
He obeyed.
"Draw your sword."
He obeyed.
She started to walk around him in a circle, and then made a short uppercut near his jawbone. He jumped. "Never be caught be surprise. You must always be concentrating on you and your opponent, no matter if they are," She jabbed left, which he didn't deflect, "on your left," feinted right, he missed, but by a few inches "on your right," She swiped lower, near the thigh, and fully deflected. "or behind you. A fast learner you are, Master Weasley. We will do this drill every day. You must learn every blow, and how to do it. There are uppercuts, swipes, feints, jabs, and tons more. I can tell you this much, your muscles will tense up. You will be in pain, but you must learn to ignore the pain. Because?"
"It's distracting?" He guessed.
"Surprisingly, you are right. What if your arm was cut in a battle? You couldn't go and get a bandage, in these battles, you fight to the death. Whoever you are fighting, wants to kill you, plain and simple. Except me."
"Good to know." Ron scoffed.
The next thing he knew, her blade was at his throat. "Do you know how lucky you are I'm not that strict?"
He shook his head, scared.
"Most trains would've given you a cut or a hit for a remark like that. This is serious, Master Weasley. If you cannot be serious, you should not have shook my hand." Her eyes bored into his.
"I am serious."
"Oh?"
"Yes, I'm just not used to this."
Tone lowered her blade. "I am sorry."
"You?"
"I am putting too much pressure on you. This is all new to you." She looked down.
"Well, yea, but I can deal with it." Without thinking, he lifted her head so he could look back into her eyes. "I am here to help you. I'll do this, whether or not I can't eat as much as a like." What he thought was sort of a joke, to her was like a godsend.
To his surprise, she hugged him so tightly he was taken aback. "Thank you." She whispered into his ear.
Lots of different feelings and thoughts drifted into Ron's mind. The feeling of a bosom against his chest wasn't entirely new, but when it came from someone other than your mother, it was different. Another thought was that she smelled very good, or that he liked the feeling of her so close to him. Ron being Ron, didn't understand any of these emotions, and barely moved as Antonia hugged him.
Finally realizing what she just did, Antonia jumped off of Ron and stepped back. "I am sorry. I shouldn't have done that."
"N-No, it's f-fine." Ron stammered.
"Uh. . . why don't you go have something to eat while I sharpen our blades?" She said. Rushed, she grabbed his sword and ran in the East direction.
Ron just stood there, trying to grasp what had just happened.
Later that day, when both had recovered from the earlier day's happenings, resumed sword lessons.
Seven hours and a ton of sweat later, the two teens walked into the house. Ron was a complete mess. Drenched in sweat, hair matted, tense and aching muscles. While Antonia was a fresh as a daisy. He went upstairs to change, while she started dinner.
When the apprentice walked into the kitchen, fully clean, he saw she was wearing a similar outfit to the one she wore the night before. Only a little more than a strip of stomach was showing. Her abs and part of her abdomen were bare, as well as her arms and shoulders. She wore pants, and her curls down.
"Do you like lasagna?" She asked, sweeping her hair to her other shoulder.
"Yes."
"Great." She handed him the entire bowl.
"Contrary to popular belief, I don't think I can eat that much."
"You don't have to. I'm going to eat what's left. I'm not very hungry. I need to fatten you up, no offense, but you're skinny."
Ron laughed a fake laugh, and sat down, digging into the food. It was good. Almost, if not better, than his own mum's. "This is really good."
"Thanks, it was my Mama's recipe."
Ron smiled, and continued eating.
Antonia didn't really do anything but just sit on the table, her feet resting on her chair, a blank look on her face. Ron looked up a few times, to see if she moved, but she never did.
"Hey, Tone, are you okay?" He asked.
Antonia snapped back to reality. "Pardon?"
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." She answered, shortly.
"Okay, you don't want to talk right now, I'll respect that. Is there any more lessons?"
"Not tonight, no."
"Alright." He handed the bowl to her. "Get some food in you. It'll make you feel better. Always does for me."
"Okay." She placed the bowl in her lap, took the fork and ate. As he turned the corner, he looked back. She resembled a little girl, scared and vulnerable. She took a cup and put it to her lips with both hands, and he knew something was definitely wrong. Ron just didn't know what.