Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all related plot events and characters are the property of JK Rowling.
Summary: PostHogwarts. Harry must deal with the horrors of war, and in doing so he will embrace his heritage and leave a lasting legacy on the world.
A/N: This story carries a mature rating, folks…if sex scenes bother you, well, then…oops. Enjoy!
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Chapter 12: Training Daze
Dumbledore looked up as the doors to the Great Hall opened. Harry and Helen walked through the doors, perhaps a touch sleepily, but otherwise looking ready for the day ahead. Helen had recovered nicely from her meeting with the floor, and was smiling brightly at Harry. He was looking down at her, returning the smile, and talking to her quietly. It must have been something funny, because Helen laughed out loud and shook her head. Harry was amused at her antics and his smiled broadened, and they both looked up to see Dumbledore watching them.
"Good morning, Albus," Harry called.
"Hello, Professor," Helen said.
As they both sat down at the small staff table, Dumbledore replied, "And a good morning to you both, as well. It appears that you are recovered from yesterday, Helen?"
She smiled sheepishly and nodded her head. "Yeah, I'm sorry about that…" but she trailed off when Harry gave her a stern look.
"How many times do I have to tell you not to be sorry? It was a quite a shock, you know, and we don't blame you for reacting like that."
"Very true," Dumbledore agreed.
She bobbed her head. "I know; I didn't want to scare you guys. That was pretty cool, though."
Dumbledore chuckled. "Indeed it was, Helen. I'm curious, however. Do you know if both of your parents were magical?"
A slight frown passed over her face, but it quickly passed. She shook her head sadly. "I don't really know much about them. They didn't tell me anything at the Orphanage except that they were killed in a magical accident." She started to pick at her food, and didn't lift her eyes. Harry slipped an arm over her shoulder and looked at Dumbledore mournfully.
"Well, I can promise you, Helen, that I will look into it for you," the Headmaster told her. She looked up with slightly hopeful eyes. "I'm not promising too much, but I will tell you that I will find out as much as I can."
She smiled at him. "Thank you! You're so great, Professor!"
Harry snorted and the corner of his mouth lifted into a half-smile. Dumbledore lifted an eyebrow at him. "Yes, Harry? Is there something about what Helen said that you don't agree with?" A smirk of his own was playing on Dumbledore's face.
Harry raised his hands in mock indignation. "I resent the implications of that, Albus. You know perfectly well that Helen here can never be wrong." He turned to Helen, who looked somewhat confused. "Right, Helen?"
She thought about it for a moment and then just shrugged. "You guys are weird," she said, and then promptly stuffed half a muffin into her mouth. Harry and Dumbledore laughed and then attacked their own breakfasts. They passed more friendly banter as they ate for a while longer, but Dumbledore suddenly looked around and then looked at Harry.
"Is Ginny feeling well, Harry?" he asked, showing concern on his face.
Harry nodded, swallowing a piece of bacon. "Yeah; she said wasn't hungry and decided that today would be a good day to start planning the wedding and getting invitations ready. I told her we could work on it later together, but she insisted." Harry shrugged.
"Daddy?" Helen asked tentatively. Her voice was small and quiet.
Harry looked over and gave her a questioning look, sensing that something was wrong. "What's the matter, honey?"
She bit her bottom lip, in a look that was oddly reminiscent of Hermione. Harry pushed those thoughts away and focused on the little girl in front of him. "Well…it's just…is Mummy really going to die?"
Harry's grip on the side of the table tightened, and soon the knuckles in his hand were white. He hadn't expected to ask her such a direct question like that so soon, and he didn't really have any comforting answers. He saw out of the corner of his eye that Dumbledore was watching this with interest, but also that he made no move to interfere.
He sighed. "Helen…I don't think there's an easy way to say this…"
"Just tell me, Daddy. I'm a big girl, and I know I can take it." Her voice belied her reasoning, though, because it was quavering madly.
Harry reached over and pulled her into his lap. He wrapped his arms around her possessively and rested his chin on the top of her head. They had both forgotten that Dumbledore was sitting across from them, and were totally focused on each other. Helen curled her arms around the ones that were going around her, and rested in Harry's grasp.
"I know you're a big girl, Helen, but I know the type of pain this causes. I think I owe it to you be honest, though, so I'm going to be. I'm sorry, and I know she is too—beyond words—but yes, Mum is going to die." Her lip trembled and a solitary tear slipped from and eye, but Harry could tell that she was successfully struggling to get her emotions under control.
"I'm sorry, Helen…" he said, rocking her a little.
She was silent for a moment, but then spoke up. "Why are you sorry, Daddy? It's not your fault. You and Mummy really like each other, so I think you two should just be happy with what you have!" She looked up and smiled at him, and climbed back to her chair when he unwrapped his arms. He glanced at Dumbledore, who was looking at Helen with pride. It wasn't a stretch for Harry to figure out why, and it also wasn't very hard for him to figure out that she was indeed the heir of Rowena. Wisdom like that at such a young age was rare.
Dumbledore shook himself and said, "So, are we all done?" Harry and Helen both indicated so, and with a wave of his hand, the food was gone. Dumbledore produced a parchment of paper and laid it on the table.
"Alright then. Today we will begin a regimen of training that will continue throughout the rest of the summer. As long as this isn't too much of a problem with you, Harry, I'd like to focus on this six days a week, leaving Sundays completely for yourselves." Harry just nodded—besides training and being with Ginny and Helen, he didn't really have much to do this summer. He wasn't really looking forward to meeting Ron and Hermione at the moment, because he had no idea what he would say to them.
Dumbledore looked at Helen. "You can join Harry for much of this, Helen, if you want to, but it won't be nearly as intensive as what he'll be doing. I'm very curious as to your magical capabilities, but I don't want to even come close to pushing your limits. You're still a young, growing girl after all."
Helen's face lit up as Dumbledore was talking. "Really? Yes! I really want to do magic!" Harry chuckled. She looked over at him and poked him in the arm. "And you, Daddy—I want to see what you can do!"
"Jeez, I hope I don't disappoint now! So many expectations…" he said, but he was smiling and his voice was full of laughter.
Dumbledore picked up the parchment and handed it to Harry. "I've made up a tentative schedule that we can follow for the rest of the summer if you don't see any problems with it."
Harry looked at the sheet. The schedule looked like:
Morning
Physical Endurance
Mental Skill
Magical Strength
Early Afternoon
Physical Strength
Mental Endurance
Magical Skill
Late Afternoon / Evening
Physical Skill
Mental Strength
Magical Endurance
Harry looked up. "What does this mean exactly?"
Dumbledore elaborated. "Well, while a Hogwarts education is well-rounded, there are certain shortcomings to it. One of the reasons for this is that most of the time we are teaching people so young and they can't handle harder tasks, but another reason for it is that the Board of Governors doesn't see a need to teach endurance and strength too much.
"I've always believed that being physically and mentally fit produces better magical responses and at faster times than when unconditioned, so I think that the majority of your training will be honing your body and your mind to be able to cope with the immense magical capabilities that you possess.
"The endurance in the three areas is just that—working you so you can go longer without tiring in those areas. The strength refers to the power of your spells, your physical power, and also the power of you mind. The 'skill' area is where any actual teaching I will do will take place."
It all made sense to Harry, and he didn't really have any questions. He actually intended to have fun this summer, and he wanted to do so by pushing his limits. Dumbledore's training looked to be very intensive, and he had no complaints. Helen nodded, so she didn't have any questions either.
"Then we shouldn't waste any more time. The first thing is physical endurance, so let's get started. For the rest of the summer, the physical endurance will consist of running. Let's say…about a half hour for now, and you can increase the length or speed as you see fit."
Harry nodded and quickly transfigured his clothes into more suitable running attire, and stood up. He stopped and looked at Helen, though. "What do you want to do Helen?"
"I want to run, too!" she exclaimed. Harry looked at Dumbledore, shrugging.
"Well, alright…but I think you should only do a lap or two around the grounds for now. Ok, Helen?" Dumbledore said. She nodded, and Harry transfigured her clothes into running attire as well.
"Are you coming outside, Albus?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore shook his head. "No…I'm much too old to be running." He laughed at the thought. "Meet me back in here when you're done." Harry nodded and turned, guiding Helen away with him. She waved at Dumbledore and smiled briefly before turning away completely and walking by Harry's side.
They made their way from the Great Hall and exited the castle, immediately enjoying the calming warmth of the morning sun. Harry looked at Helen for a moment, and she looked back, and then she took off at a trot. He smirked to himself for a moment, and then followed her. They ran side by side; Harry was jogging, stretching his legs out as he did so, and he kept stealing glances at Helen as they went. She had a big grin on her face, which was slightly turned toward the sun, and her easy gait was surprisingly fluid.
They stopped near the edge of the Forbidden Forest for a few moments to stretch out their unconditioned muscles, and then continued on. They didn't talk, but no conversation was necessary. There was something comforting about participating in the exercise in the company of another person, especially because they were very familiar and easy with each other. After a lap around the grounds, Helen was huffing a bit; she gave a Harry a look, and then stopped. He glanced back as he continued on, seeing that she was using the stone steps into the school to stretch again.
Harry continued on for three more laps around the grounds, running for a total of about a half hour, and was pretty winded when he stopped next to Helen. She grinned at him as he stretched his muscles in the same manner she had, and then they both entered the castle.
"So, how was it?" Harry asked.
Helen nodded, almost to herself, before saying, "I liked it. I definitely think I'll be out there with you every day."
Harry felt a warm glow and smiled broadly, and then swept Helen into his arms. She laughed and her face lit up in a warm smile of her own as Harry settled her into his arms. She looked directly into his eyes.
"Daddy?"
Harry stopped, captivated by her gaze. "Yeah, hun?"
"What would have happened to me if we never met?"
Harry's eyes went cloudy for a moment, before clearing and refocusing on hers. "I'm not sure, Helen."
Her face fell a bit. "Oh…"
"But you know what?"
She glanced back at his eyes. "What?"
"I don't want to imagine my life without you, so I'm eternally grateful I made that choice to go to the Orphanage that night."
Her eyes widened a tiny bit. "Really?" she asked, a bit timidly.
Harry nodded. "Really." She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek, like she was wont to do.
"Thank you," she whispered. He patted her back and carried her into the Great Hall, where Dumbledore was waiting for them. He looked up and smiled at the duo.
"Everything all right?" he asked.
"Oh yes," Harry said, and Helen twisted around and flashed a smile at Dumbledore. "Definitely," she said.
"Alright then, did you both enjoy your run?" They nodded. "Shall we proceed?" They nodded again.
"During the 'Mental Skill' portion of our activities, we will be doing two things. The first is general instruction in magic, with the goal of broadening your knowledge of spells, counters, and curses that can be used." Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a moment, and the conjured a book. The title read Standard Book of Spells, Year One. "I think, for now, Helen can use this to increase her own knowledge and magical capabilities. As for the second thing, Harry, I will be teaching you to improve and advance your Legilimency and Occlumency."
Neither Harry nor Helen had any complaints, so they dove into their work. Helen started in on Chapter One of her new book, practicing the spells as she came to them. She was an awfully quick learner, and mastered Wingardium Leviosa in about the time it took Hermione to do so. Harry and Dumbledore worked from much more advanced books, and occasionally the Great Hall would light up with some spell or another as they practiced. As Harry learned new spells and new uses of existing ones, Dumbledore also told him how they might useful in a duel – he wasn't the only one Voldemort had ever feared for nothing. His knowledge and practical skills in magic were formidable, and Harry very vividly remembered the hair on the back of his neck standing up from the power of the man's simple stunner in the Ministry of Magic.
They eventually switched over to Legilimency and Occlumency, and Dumbledore called Helen over so she could get a feel for the rather imprecise branch of magic. She wouldn't be doing any in the near future, but it couldn't hurt for her to know what it was and begin to build basic Occlumency shields.
"Well, if we are this productive all summer long, I daresay Helen might be as skilled as a second year by the time her seventh birthday rolls around. And you, Harry, will undoubtedly give me a run for my money in a formal duel—one without the use of our extended magical capabilities." The both remembered the stalemate of their last duel, and the disaster that almost occurred with the shields protecting the spectators, and they weren't in a hurry to repeat it. But, if the time came, they would pit themselves against each other and see just who really was the most powerful wizard since Merlin.
Harry chuckled. "We'll see, Albus…" He looked to Helen. "So, what did you learn?"
Her eyes lit up, and she brandished her wand as she looked around for an object to use it on. She spotted a chair at the staff table, and raised her wand toward it. With a swish and a flick, she said, "Wingardium Leviosa!" and the chair jumped about ten feet in the air.
Harry grinned. "Very nice, Helen. A lot of power, I see…and Hermione would be proud of you for the correct pronunciation." She gave him an odd look, not knowing the story behind what he said, but he was lost in his own musings about Hermione. He kind of missed her…
Shaking his head, he cocked it to the side for a moment as she lowered the chair back to the ground. Pulling out his wand, he pointed it at the chair, said the incantation, and swished and flicked as he did so. The chair shot up and hovered halfway between the floor and the ceiling. He lowered the chair quickly and pointed his wand again, intoning the incantation, but without the swish and flick. The chair shot up to the same height as the first time.
Dumbledore and Helen were both watching him curiously—the Headmaster with a knowing look and Helen with a curious one—as he set it up a third time. This time he swished and flicked, but did not say the incantation out loud. The chair shot up again. Lowering it, he did it once more, this time without an incantation or a wand movement—the chair behaved exactly as it had the three previous times.
Harry gave Dumbledore an odd look. "Those wand movements really are meaningless, aren't they?"
Dumbledore smiled and nodded his head for a moment, and said, "Indeed they are, Harry. They merely help young people focus on their intent, which is really what the driving force behind spells is. For instance, Helen, if you would be so kind as to try that again, but this time without the swish and flick?"
She looked thoughtful as she nodded, absorbing the byplay between Harry and the Headmaster, and raised her wand. She incanted the spell, without the wand movement, and watched proudly as the chair shot up to the same height as the first time she did the spell. She lowered it back to the ground and looked to the two men.
"Very good, Helen," Dumbledore started, "but, this time try it without the incantation or the wand movement."
Her brow furrowed for a moment, and then she nodded and turned back to face the chair. She raised her wand and held it steady for a moment. The lines on her forehead became more and more pronounced, her nose crinkled up, and her wand started vibrating a bit as her hand shook minutely.
Dumbledore opened his mouth to tell her to stop, but promptly shut it when the chair flew into the air… higher…and higher…until it crashed violently into the ceiling. Helen started and stared at the falling pieces, and winced as a rather large piece hit the floor and shattered.
"Err…oops?" she meekly asked. Harry and Dumbledore, however, broke into laughter, which immediately allayed her fears, and she smiled in return.
"Well, I was going to ask you to stop, but I see you have found your intent," Dumbledore stated.
Harry nodded his head and pointed his wand at the pieces of the chair. "Reparo," he muttered, and the pieces flew back together.
"So, what does it all mean?" Helen looked inquisitively to both Harry and Dumbledore.
"Simply put, my dear, wand movements and incantations are unnecessary, but are often helpful for younger wizards and witches to focus their magic. Silent and motionless magic is very hard to accomplish regularly, but as you have just seen, once accomplished, it can be powerful.
"That was a nice segue into what we're going to be doing next, which is focusing on magical strength." Dumbledore turned, pointed his wand at a far corner of the room, focused for a moment, and watched satisfactorily as a large, thick metal wall appeared out of thin air. He pointed to it, looking at Harry and Helen.
"That wall is made of solid titanium, and it will be instrumental in what I want to show you. First thing's first: we will be using a blasting hex today, of which the incantation is Bombarda. As we have just discussed, the incantation is not completely necessary, but if you have never cast the spell before, it will help you focus it." Harry and Helen both nodded. "Alright, for our first casting, we will be using our wands."
Dumbledore raised his wand and, shortly after, a large teal orb shot forth, speeding across the Hall and slamming into the wall. There was a small dent where it hit. He looked to Harry and nodded. Harry raised his wand and incanted the Latin—he was unfamiliar with the spell—and watched as his own teal globe smashed the wall, leaving another small dent. Helen didn't need any prompting, and incanted her own blasting hex, which also left a bit of a dent.
Dumbledore smirked briefly, and then said, "Increpitas Inflecto Forma Veres." The familiar platinum broadsword flashed into view, and Harry and Helen couldn't help their momentary awed gazes, even though they'd already seen it before.
"Well, don't just stand there and gape—you can do this, too! Let's go, change your wands to the swords." They needed no further prompting, and soon Harry held the gold and crimson Crusader sword in his hand, just as Helen was carefully wielding the blue and bronze scimitar. "For the purposes of our training, the blades do not need to be deathly sharp." He pointed his sword at the other two, and cast a dulling charm. He then did so to his own weapon.
"Alright, now, we're going to cast the same hex as before. See if you can feel the difference in power when you use the swords, as compared to your wands."
Dumbledore cast the hex—the teal orb was noticeably brighter—and it slammed into the wall, leaving a larger dent. Harry and Helen followed suit, with much of the same for results. They nodded to Dumbledore, telling him that they had indeed felt the difference.
"For the final demonstration, unlock the power of your swords. Omnipotens," he said, and his sword flashed silver as the flames lit up around the blade.
"Animus," said Harry, and his sword did the same, except in crimson and gold. Helen almost said the name to hers, but then realized that doing so would have revealed she had been awake while they had been talking the previous night. She gave Dumbledore a questioning look, and he nodded at her.
With an odd, almost knowing twinkling in his eyes, he said, "Ah, how could I forget? The name to your sword, Helen, is Fervens." She held his gaze for a moment, taking in his assumed perception, and incanted the name. The sword flashed blue and bronze, and the flames mirrored those of Harry's and Dumbledore's.
"Now, use everything you have, and you should definitely be able to feel the difference this time." Dumbledore raised his sword, and recoiled a bit from the force of the bright, twinkling teal ball of energy that shot forth. It was nearly as tall as himself, and when it crashed into the wall, there was a resounding clang. The dent was much more noticeable this time around.
Helen couldn't wait to try it and raised her sword before Harry got the chance to raise his. He smiled at her enthusiasm, and watched as her small arm also recoiled from the force of the spell that came forth. It wasn't quite as big or as bright as Dumbledore's, and didn't leave quite the dent, but it will impressive nonetheless. She had a strange, reflective look on her face.
Harry raised his sword and thought about the incantation, but did not say it this time. The effect of the unlocked sword was immediately apparent to him. He could feel as his magic built up and readied itself, far surpassing any amount of power he had previously displayed, and then washed from him like a tidal wave. The sword vibrated for a moment, and then recoiled nearly perpendicular as a huge, sun-bright, teal orb raced from it. It hit the wall with the cacophonous sound of rolling thunder, which reverberated around the Hall. When their dazzled eyes cleared, the three saw that the force of his spell had forced the entire wall into a concave shape. Helen turned her head to him, mouth wide open.
Harry looked to Dumbledore, and saw the old man was nodding to himself. "Just as I thought, Harry. The release of your true magical strength is impressive. I would venture to guess that you have at least twofold as much power as I do."
Harry was confused. "But," he started, "we were evenly matched in our duel."
"Yes, we were, but that was before you knew the true potential of your power. I am an old man, Harry, so I have had years to hone my strength and endurance, and that is why I held up so well in that duel. My finesse was just enough to overcome your brute strength, but in time, you will gain that finesse and probably be unstoppable."
Harry groaned. More things to be different about! "Why though? What determines magical strength?"
Dumbledore looked at both Harry and Helen. "No one is quite sure, but in both of your cases, you have some of the purest magical blood running through your veins. Some of it is most likely hereditary, but there is also some unknown factor. Take, for instance, squibs. Why are they born without magic? And, also, Muggleborn. Why are they born with magic from non-magical parents? It is one of the great mysteries of the magical world." He paused and considered Helen for a moment. "Both of you—but Helen in particular—still have time to continue to unlock your potential. I'm fairly certain that you're nearing your full magical output, Harry, but Helen here will probably continue to get more and more powerful until she's your age or older."
Harry didn't look surprised, but Helen did. "What?" she squeaked.
Harry laughed at her shock. "That's right, Helen. Someday you'll be more powerful than Dumbledore and just as if not more so than me." She let out a nervous laugh and glanced at the beaten titanium wall again, before resting her sword point-against the floor. Her stomach made a small noise.
Dumbledore looked mildly chastened. "Oh, that's right, it is a bit late. Why don't we have some lunch?" The three of them reverted the swords back into their wands, and then sat down at the table as lunch appeared. They chatted about various things, but kept the conversation light, and the meal passed very quickly. The next portion of the training, according to Dumbledore, was physical strength, and he directed them to the Room of Requirement for it.
When the door opened, the three of them were treated to a large, trendy Muggle gym, complete with various sets of equipment, a large sparring area, hot tubs, and a spa. Each machine had easy-to-follow instructions posted on them, and Harry and Helen worked out a bit. Helen only did some push-ups and crunches, with a few gymnastic exercises, because lifting would stunt her growth, but Harry had no such restrictions. He wasn't stick thin, but he wasn't very muscular, and looked forward to toning his body a bit. They worked on their physical strength for about 45 minutes, and then Dumbledore called them over to a far corner of the room.
"The next part will be your mental endurance. This will perhaps be the most unpleasant part of your training, but it is necessary. As they say, the only real way to learn is to use a hands-on approach, so in order to increase your mental stamina, I will be practicing Legilimency on you." Harry winced a bit, but nodded in acceptance. "As for you, Helen, you can work on building and strengthening your Occlumency shields for now." She nodded as well.
And for the next half hour, Dumbledore battered away at Harry's mental shields. Unpleasant was a rather mild word for what Harry was feeling, but he understood that some things were necessary if he wanted to protect his mind. There were just some things that others shouldn't know. Helen meditated the entire time, showing remarkable focus for a six-year-old, and snapped out of it only when Harry gently shook her. He grew more and more amazed by her poise every minute he watched her.
"That was definitely productive. Let me reset the room, and we can move onto the magical skill portion of our day." They exited and he did so, and then reentered to find a dueling arena. "This portion of the training will be friendly duels, so that we can explore our strengths and weaknesses and try new and different strategies. For now, it will be just Harry and I, but as you learn more spells, you're certainly welcome to join in, Helen."
She nodded and then settled back to watch and study as the two men started dueling with each other. It was mostly harmless, but they were using their unlocked swords, so the spells they were casting were very, very powerful. One spell Harry cast caused hair to gravitate towards it as it went by, and she could almost feel the magical energy prickling at her skin. She was awed by the power he displayed, but knew also that he was very humble about and would never exploit it. She knew that that was part of the reason that he was doing this training—he needed to control it and harness it, rather than let it control him. She was glad he and Dumbledore were letting her partake in the activities, because she didn't want to fall into the same trap later on.
After nearly an hour of the dueling, they stopped and moved on to the next the part of the daily training. Physical skill, as Dumbledore described it, was the increasing of their speed, agility, flexibility, and expertise with their sword as a weapon.
"Magic might be very useful, but it can't do everything, and you will certainly have an advantage if you know some Muggle tricks as well. Also, in a general sense, this will hone your reflexes and build your physical poise, which can't hurt."
Their swords still had the dulling charm on them, so there was no danger of them cutting each other. Dumbledore showed them some very basic movements, as well as some flexibility exercises that would help them move quicker and with more fluidity. Helen proved to be very quick—almost too quick for either of them—and very adept at learning skills with a blade. Harry wasn't far behind, but again he marveled at her willingness and desire to apply herself. He certainly wasn't like that at six, but then again, even though the Dursleys were horrendous, his early childhood was not nearly as bad as hers.
She was sure on her feet, and maneuvered around many of the parries that Harry or Dumbledore would have gained, and sent them both sprawling to the floor many times. She was laughing and enjoying herself, and both men weren't going to begrudge her of it just because of a few meetings with the rather hard mats. She needed something to laugh about, and maybe they had finally found something she could really, honestly enjoy.
Part of Harry's problem was the relative size of the swords, with the scimitar that Helen was using being fairly light and easy to wield. His Crusader sword, on the other, was still a bit weighty for him to move as quickly as she could, and that was something only time with the Muggle gym equipment could solve.
Dumbledore showed a surprising grace and agility for one over a century and a half old, but his age was ultimately why Helen got the better of him. What she lacked in skill versus him, she more than made up for it in the fact that she was so clever on her feet. He got a kick out of watching her, sometimes from his back on the floor, as she seemed to find her element in all of this. He personally couldn't wait to see how these skills developed in her.
"Well, that was certainly a most enlightening exercise, wouldn't you say?" he asked them once they had stopped.
Harry nodded and mocked glared at Helen, who just smiled impishly and twirled her scimitar in her fist in a rather startling way.
Dumbledore just laughed at her, as he could tell that she was truly enjoying herself. "I think it is about time for dinner. Let's return to the Great Hall and get something to eat."
They did so, and enjoyed another meal together. The shadows were growing longer and the temperature had dropped ever so slightly when they finished, signaling the onset of evening.
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and considered the two before him for a moment. He had never encountered two as powerful before, and he didn't think he or anyone else would again (unless, of course, they each have children of their own some day, he mused). They also went remarkably well together, and seemed to be helping each other heal their vast wounds from Voldemort's reign. Harry's personal quest to take care of her from the minute he met her was warming, especially considering the heart of darkness he had briefly displayed a few times. Helen seemed to have a genuine wonder of the world and all new experiences that came with being a six-year-old, but the naiveté that one so young should possess was missing.
He shook his head and cleared his throat. "Now we have the last two portions of our training for the day. For your mental strength, Harry, you will be doing to me as I was doing to you earlier. Use your Legilimency on my shields, and try to break them. Don't hold back, because I certainly wasn't earlier. And Helen, you can work on your shields again."
Helen almost immediately dropped into a meditative state, leaving Harry and the Headmaster to do their work. Harry battered and rammed the old man's shields, mixing in more subtle attempts at breaking through. Dumbledore held fast though, and Harry made very little progress—certainly much less than Dumbledore had on his own shields.
Harry had to shake Helen from her meditation again, and wondered at how much progress she'd had over the day, but decided that he would give her a few more days or maybe a week before testing her shields.
Once he had their attention, Dumbledore spoke up. "For the last activity of the day, we're going to focus on magical endurance. This includes offensive and defensive endurance." He looked at Helen. "For today, I think you should just practice the Protego spell, which essentially creates a magical barrier capable of blocking other magical energies."
"It can only block certain spells, though, right Albus?"
The Headmaster shook his head. "That is a common misconception, Harry, but it is for good reason. The spell is based off your own magical power, and basically rather than actually physical preventing the offending spell from getting to you it absorbs the magical energy. Then, it is your magical power that prevents the backlash from the energy from coming through. If it doesn't, though, then it appears like the spell just passes through the shield."
"Hmm…" Harry said thoughtfully, looking back over many instances of failed Protegos. It made more sense now that the theory behind the spell was explained to him, and he wished he had known it before.
"Then…could I block an Avada Kedavra with it?"
"That is a gray area, Harry. Avada Kedavra has an indistinct amount of energy behind it, because it is tied more to the soul of the caster than the actual magical core, but it has been supposed that if a Protego were strong enough, then the spell would be blocked." Dumbledore pursed his lips for a moment. "However, the effect of that is not known, either. Very few spells are tied to the soul like Avada Kedavra is, so in blocking it, you could kill the caster." Dumbledore shrugged. "All things to consider, my boy."
"Ok, so where do we start" Harry asked. Helen had already moved off to practice the shield spell, and he looked at her amusedly for a moment, before turning back to hear Dumbledore's answer.
"Let's move to opposite ends of the Hall, and you put up your shield charm. I'm going to batter it with the blasting hex from earlier, and you should try to keep the shield up against it. Let's use our full powers for this little exercise." Harry nodded, and incanted his wand into the crimson and gold sword, and then unlocked its powers and his with an utterance of its name. Dumbledore moved away from him, and he cast the shield charm.
The Headmaster raised his sword, and a steady stream of the huge teal orbs flew from the wand. Harry braced himself against the impact, shoring up the strength of his shield with even more of his energy, and flinched a little each time a powerful ball washed up against it. They kept this up for nearly twenty minutes, with no sign of either weakening, so Dumbledore decided to increase the power of his spells, as well as their frequency. Harry felt the change, and again strengthened the magical barrier around him. He could faintly start to feel the magical backlash of all the absorbed energy, and was worried about the effects it could have on the Hall. Just as he was about to say something, though, Dumbledore lowered his sword and strode over.
"Very good for the first day, Harry, but in the coming days and weeks we need to work on controlling that backlash a little more. It was about to get out of hand. Now, though, it is your turn to test your offensive endurance. Cast that blasting hex at me until I hold up my hand for us to stop." He turned back around before Harry was able to say anything, casting his Protego as he went. He gave Harry the signal to start, and Harry raised his sword.
He started off slowly, casting a hex every few seconds, just testing the waters. He gradually increased their strength and frequency, and after about twenty-five minutes, felt himself tiring slightly. He decided to go for broke, and let his magic pour out of himself. It was hard to distinguish individual hexes as they came from his sword, and it appeared to be just a continuous large stream of teal energy. Dumbledore had to very clearly brace himself against the onslaught, but his shield still held, and Harry never did sense the same feeling of built-up magical energy he had when he was on the defensive. After a few more minutes, Dumbledore held up his hand, and Harry ceased.
He was panting a bit, but smiled as Dumbledore came over and clapped him on the shoulder for the power of the spells. "If I'm more powerful than you, Albus, how come I couldn't break your shield?"
"That would be one of the advantages of age, Harry. I know how to bleed your hexes off quickly and actually use that energy to strengthen my own shield, whereas when you were defending yourself you were just using your own strength to stop me. That is something we will get to soon." He stopped as he glanced over at Helen, and let out a short laugh and directed Harry's attention over to her. He looked and laughed at what he saw, as well.
Helen had evidently grown bored of or mastered the shield charm, because she was now wielding her sword and practicing moves they had learned earlier in the day. She ducked, dove, strafed, twirled, and leaped with her sword in hand; she was very fast and it was almost hard to follow her. Harry thought it was odd that she was almost inhumanly lithe, but he supposed that it must be another of the Ravenclaw traits in her blood. He pitied the poor fool who ever got fresh with her, because it looked like he would be eating dirt before he knew what hit him. An odd pang shot through him with that thought, and he supposed it was because people had already taken liberties with her…
After a few moments, she noticed that both men were staring at her and smiling, and she grew self-conscious. She finished her exercise with a dexterous flourish of the scimitar, and walked shyly over to them.
"What are you guys staring at?"
Dumbledore blinked. "We were staring, weren't we?"
She nodded. "It was kind of weird."
Both Harry and Dumbledore shook their head slightly. Harry said, "We were staring because you were doing so good! Who knew you could be that good with a sword?"
She smiled sheepishly. "Well, one of the things that I did when I was bored at the…Orphanage… and the Pediatrics Ward was practice something like that with a stick I have. It's always interested me for some reason."
"Probably cause you're amazing at it?" Harry asked.
She cuffed his arm. "Whatever, Daddy!"
"So, Helen, how did the Protego go?" Dumbledore asked, smoothly changing subjects.
She raised her sword and said, "Protego," and a sleek, glistening bronze magical wall snapped into place around her. She averted her focus and the shield dropped. Harry and Dumbledore exchanged glances.
"The First Years in her class are going to be so jealous," Dumbledore said, deadpan. Harry laughed loudly at this, and incanted the reverting charm on his sword. Dumbledore and Helen did the same, and Harry picked up Helen into his arms.
"We're done for the day, correct?" he asked.
Dumbledore nodded. "Yes, we are. Same time tomorrow?" At Harry's affirmative motion, the three of them walked from the Great Hall and up through the castle. As Dumbledore split off toward his office, he intoned, "Say hello to Ginny for me," and was gone around the corner.
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Harry plopped down on the couch in their suite with a sigh. Helen had gone to bed, citing tiredness, and it was just Ginny and him. He leaned into her shoulder, to which she smiled at and put down her pen. There were a few catalogues open on the coffee table between the couches, and from what Harry could see, they mostly were for bridal gowns. They sat in a companionable silence for a few moments, with Harry enjoying the closeness to the woman he loved and Ginny enjoying the fresh-from-the-shower scent he exuded. The light from the window flared briefly on the wall, and the sun slipped below the horizon.
"What do you think of just having a small wedding, Harry?" she asked eventually. Harry started—he had almost fallen asleep. Ginny chuckled softly.
"I think…I think that would be great, Ginny. Who needs pomp and ceremony? I already know that I love you, and I don't need hundreds of people there for me to confirm that."
A small smile played across Ginny's lips at his words. "I was thinking about just inviting our close friends and family."
"That's fine with me, love." Her shoulder felt awesomely comfortable, and he couldn't help but be mesmerized by the soft rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed.
She either noticed the direction of his gaze, even though she hadn't moved her head, or sensed it, because she asked, a bit coyly, "Something you like?" Harry froze for a brief moment, before smiling and nodding his head slowly. He met her eyes and she saw the amusement and…desire…dancing there, and she fairly melted right then.
"Harry?"
"Yeah, babe?"
"You know how we said we should just live it up?"
He looked more acutely into her eyes, but the desire did not fade. "Yeah."
"Well, let's start tonight."
Harry appeared to think about it for a moment, before acquiescing. "Ok, well what did you have in mind?"
Ginny smirked and turned slightly, grabbing his head in her hands and pulling him up into a searing kiss that would melt even the most frozen of wastelands. His brain swam, partly from the exhaustion of the long day and partly from the vast longing blazing through him at the moment, and he was momentarily lost in the joys of her lips and tongue. They danced against each for a few moments, before they pulled back from their mutual need of air. Both of their cheeks were rather rosy, and those same breasts he was staring at before were heaving now. He could see that her eyes were slightly cloudy, and he vaguely wondered if his looked the same.
He leaned in this time and recaptured her lips as his hands roamed over back. She reciprocated the action, and leaned into him so that he lay back on the couch. She was half above him and half off the couch now, and when they broke the kiss, she noticed that he was staring into her eyes.
"Ginny…"
"Harry…" they intoned at the same time.
"Are you sure this is what you want?" he asked quietly. She bit her lip for a moment, and again he was oddly reminded of Hermione, before the thought was washed away by her simple nod. In a smooth motion, he stood and gathered her in his arms, and carried her from the living area into their bedroom. A mere thought closed the door and put up a silencing charm, but he didn't really notice it as Ginny had started kissing him again. He laid her back on the bed and then settled down next to her.
She moved her lips from his own to his jaw and then slowly to his ear lobe, which she nibbled briefly on. He shivered for a moment, reveling in the attention, and then felt her hand go to the buttons on his shirt, which she slowly undid. She moved back to his lips as the last button came undone, and slowly pushed the shirt off his shoulders. He moved so it would be easier to remove, and shivered again as her hands swept over his newly bared skin.
Harry turned over so he was partially above her, and repeated her earlier actions. As he paid attention to her lips, jaw, and ear lobe, he slowly and carefully undid the buttons to her blouse. She helped him pull it off, and lay back as he moved down from her lips to her neck. She arched her back as she felt his tongue slip over her heated skin, and shivered slightly as his hand passed lightly over her taut stomach. As he moved down her neck, his other hand went to the clasp of her bra, which was in the front, and undid it. His lips passed over the upper swell of her breast, and just as her bra was about to impede him, she pushed it away, revealing to him her pink nipples. They were surprisingly hard, and she squirmed as he captured one in his mouth and the other between his fingers.
She grasped his hair and made a cooing noise as his tongue flicked over the small nub, and wiggled a bit as she felt herself starting to grow aroused. Harry moved down from her breasts and trailed kisses along her stomach, stopping briefly at her navel to give it extra attention, before continuing south. When he reached the waistband of her pants, with one hand still teasing a nipple, the other went to the clasp. He stopped and looked up at her face, silently seeking permission to continue. She just stared lustily into his eyes, giving him that permission. The pure desire he saw in her face almost sent him over the edge right there, but he held himself in check, telling himself that she would cherish this night for the rest of her short life if it killed him.
He gently worked at the button and the zipper as he continued to trail kisses along her stomach, and soon was slowly pulling the jeans down her smooth, long legs. He moved so he was kneeling by her feet, and slipped the jeans off. He captured a leg in his hand, and moved his lips to the interesting curve of her calf muscle, as his eyes strayed to the very small pair of knickers she was wearing. Again, he was almost pushed over the edge, but he controlled himself.
He moved up her leg, vaguely wondering how her skin could possibly be so soft, until he arrived at her waist. He gently gripped the thong knickers in his hand and pulled them off in one smooth motion, baring her most private area to his greedy eyes. He silently applauded himself at his self-control, and then moved to make good on his unspoken promise to her.
She was soon bucking with pleasure as his talented tongue worked its magic, and her hands were entwined in his hair as she pressed his face into her. Her back was arched and her chest was heaving, but he did not notice any of that. All of his attention was focused on a little nub, and the wonders of it, and how it made her react when he did this nice little flick with his tongue…
"Oh my god….HARRY!" she cried, and was sent over the edge as waves of pleasure coursed through her nerves. She bucked into his face, which only heightened her climax. After what seemed like hours, she settled down and pulled him up, kissing him and tasting herself on his tongue. He was lost in her heavenly scent, and all that he could think was how much he loved her. Ginny, however, was aware of something hard that was pressing into her thigh, and she decided to help Harry out with it.
She turned them over so she was on top, and moved down his neck and across chest in much the same way he had. She flicked his nipple momentarily, but moved on quickly, not sure if it elicited the same response in men as it did in women. Harry, on the other hand, knew that it certainly did, but didn't complain as her kisses moved lower and lower, crossing over his abs and stopping near his waistband. She silently asked for permission, much as he had done, and he agreed.
She undid the button and pulled down the zipper, trying to control her breathing as she noticed the rather enticing bulge. The jeans came off, leaving only his boxers, and she had to contain the impulse to rip them off to get a good look at him. She kissed around the waistband for a moment, teasing him a bit, before giving into the urge and sliding them off quickly. Her gaze was immediately drawn to his obvious excitement, and she returned his earlier attention.
Harry had never felt something as heavenly as what she was doing to him now. The warmth of her mouth was better than anything in his wildest fantasy, and he marveled at her talented tongue as it slid over him. If what she had felt was only half this good, then he had done his job. All further thoughts were cut off, though, as she drew him into her throat.
He moaned and gently grasped her hair, trying to hold himself back. He was mostly successful, and soon enough (too soon to Harry) she raised her head and regarded him with hooded eyes. His chest was heaving and his eyelids were just as heavy as hers. She reached over to the nightstand and grabbed her wand, and cast the contraceptive charm on herself.
Harry was watching her every movement, and the lust she saw in his eyes sent a friendly buzzing returning to her stomach. She drew herself up over him, and the locked eyes as Harry felt wetness at the tip of himself. They both nodded almost imperceptibly, and Ginny lowered herself down onto him, meeting a little resistance at first, then pain, but then nothing but pleasure.
Their cries were synchronized as she moved up and down, and Harry's hands went to her hips to guide her along on her journey. They moved slowly and languorously at first, but soon their tempo increased to match that of their heat for each other.
"Fuck…Ginny…" he intoned, which sent her over the edge again. There was something about Harry talking dirty to her, in the heat of the moment, that was indescribably alluring, and her convulsing walls sent him over the edge as well. She could feel his warmth spreading through her as she continued to convulse. As they both came down from their highs, she leaned forward onto his chest, and kissed him deeply. He was still inside of her, and she noticed that he seemed to regain his excitement rather quickly.
She leaned back and smirked at him, to which he responded by flipping her over onto her back and resuming their actions. He slowly moved in and out; both reveled in the new sensations they were feeling from the new position, and they worked themselves back into a frenzy. There was nothing but heat and desire between them now, and the speed of the movements complimented those feelings, until they reached another mutual high.
When their convulsing stopped, Harry gingerly exited her and lay down by her side. He idly played with her hair as he tried to figure out what she was thinking. He hoped it was what he was.
"That was amazing…" she sighed. Yup—it definitely was. He smiled softly to himself, placed a chaste kiss on her cheek, and wrapped an arm possessively over chest. She curled into him, and then both fell asleep, blissfully aware that the other was still very much without clothing.
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July passed quickly. Harry and Helen continued to train every day with Dumbledore, and were showing marked improvements in all areas. Helen continued to impress them both with her quick growth and amazing potential, and Harry's magical power grew even stronger. Ginny came to the training a few times, but watched more often than participating.
She and Harry continued to develop the newfound depth of their relationship, with benefits for both, and it took them to a new level of commitment neither of them had experienced before. Helen noticed the change and asked Harry about it breakfast one day, to which Harry blushed. Dumbledore gave him a knowing smile and headed off Helen with discussion about using her sword in new ways.
She was remarkable in that aspect of the training—she was much faster than either Dumbledore or Harry and grasped the skills and movements involved quicker than them. Even with Harry's developing physical strength, he still hadn't reached a point where he could maneuver his Crusader blade as adeptly as she could her scimitar. He was proud of her, and let her know it, and she returned the praise tenfold because of every impressive skill he exhibited elsewhere.
Elsewhere. It was a funny word to Harry, especially when used in conjunction with the names Ron and Hermione. They both seemed to be elsewhere almost all the time, and had only visited the castle twice since the beginning of the summer. Both times Ron had seemed unusually dour towards Harry, and Hermione had just been pensively quiet. Both of their visits had been quite uncomfortable, for both Harry and Ginny, and Harry found himself wondering how he had let the gulf between him and his two best friends grow so much.
He was unwilling to consider Helen the factor in that equation, and instead blamed Voldemort and the war. He'd once read in a Muggle psychology book that funny things happen to people who've been through terrible traumas together, and he thought that this might be one of them. He hated it, and resolved that when they came for the wedding he would try to begin rebuilding the innate bond they had once—and he hoped they still—shared.
July 31st dawned bright and early, and Harry slipped out of bed to begin the day. Today was the day he turned eighteen, and also the day they were celebrating his and Helen's birthdays. They had the day off from training, due to that fact, and Harry wanted to get an early start. Three days away was another big day for him: his wedding. As far as he knew, everything and everyone was set, thanks mostly to Ginny.
True to her word, she had kept it small, and had tailored it to a quiet Hogwarts ceremony. Dumbledore would preside over it, following which there would be a small reception in the Great Hall. He was excited for it, but also somewhat saddened. The last month with Ginny had been amazing—not really because of the sex, but mostly because they had talked about anything and everything, and hadn't been afraid to broach the subject of her sickness.
As he watched the sun peek over the trees of the Forbidden Forest, lighting the lake in a brilliant orange hue, his thoughts turned to a happier subject: he planned to make this the best birthday Helen would ever have.
