Disclaimer : I don't own anything in the world of Harry Potter, that's J.K.Rowling's job. The plot is mine though.

Chapter 8 : The Training

"It seems you have been chosen," replied the girl, with a slightly more serious expression than before. "Chosen to be trained as the Guardian."

Ilana had spent the rest of that day showing Hermione around the other rooms of the cottage. Firstly there was a rather impressively equipped training room, fitted out with various types of weapons, and an area in the middle that looked like it could be used for duelling. There was also a decently sized library, with rows upon rows of ancient reference books, seemingly containing knowledge of nearly every spell imaginable. After nearly an hour of flicking through as many books as she could get her hands on, Hermione had to be half dragged out of the room so Ilana could show her around the rest. The kitchen was of a similar style to the living room, fairly small and with that warm homely feeling about it. The back garden was far more impressive than the front. It contained a whole array of different species of flowers, all expertly arranged amongst winding paths and small water features. Hermione had spent quite some time sitting on one of the many small benches, next to a bubbling fountain, to reflect on the day's events while Ilana went back inside.

Why? Why me? All I wanted was to be accepted in the wizarding world, now I've got this. But it could be an interesting chance to learn things… I mean, if she taught the Professor…I do hope he's all right. And what was that thing that attacked him?

She made her mind up at that point that she was going to give this training a chance. She stood up, brushed off her robes, and headed back into the house. Ilana was waiting for her, and showed her to the last room of the house, her room. There was nothing special there, just a bed, a set of drawers to keep clothes in, a clock, and a small window overlooking the garden.

"You had better get some sleep soon," Ilana told her, "I know you are still tired after coming here, and night will be here soon anyway. Feel free to borrow as many books as you like from the library, and we're going to start at eight tomorrow. We wouldn't want to waste any time here. Help yourself to some breakfast in the morning."

With that Ilana left the room and went out into the garden, skipping slightly as she went.

Back at Hogwarts, less than an hour had passed. After making sure the Professor was comfortably back in his own bed and giving instructions to Poppy to let him know the instant he woke up, he shuffled back up the winding staircase to his office. He slumped down heavily in his seat, crossed his arms on his desk and placed his head down on them. Rarely had he ever felt so defeated. Even during the last war, he had always had plans. Plans that worked, plans that failed, but all the time coming up with ideas on how to win. This time though he had nothing. There was no way to win, one of his students had died under his care. One of his favourite students.

He knew he shouldn't really have favourites, and they were all important to him. He had sworn to do his best to teach what he could to each and every one of the students that passed under his care. However he couldn't help get attached to the bushy haired girl when he first caught sight of her at the opening feast. She was wide-eyed and had that spark about her that was so rarely seen these days; that spark of the desire to learn. That was what kept him going even through the most difficult of times; coming out of his office and into the Great Hall to see the young eager faces waiting for him.

His mind kept going back to the same question. Why? Why would Christin have done that?

He had known the man for a very long time, and was sure he wasn't capable of doing such a thing. But wait. He wouldn't.

Those words brought back the tiniest of sparks to his weary bones. Of course he wouldn't. He would certainly have the magic to heal something like a head injury? Wouldn't he?

He knew Christin would be the only one with the answers, so he would have to wait until he woke up. He would have to be very careful though, he knew what the man was capable of, and he was certainly more than a match for a rather old Headmaster. He would wait before informing her parents. He really had no idea what had happened to her, and he didn't fancy the idea of trying to explain her death if there was any chance she could come back. Until then, he had an idea, but he would need to tell her friends. Dumbledore walked slowly out of his office again, a new hope within him, but apprehensive all the same. He was not looking forward to this conversation.

Hermione awoke the next morning just before eight. There had never been any need for her to have an alarm clock; she had always been able to wake up just on time for everything. It was quite a useful skill actually. She got up, crossed the rather barren room, she would have to do something about that later, and put on one of the many sets of identical clothes. She walked slowly into the kitchen and looked for something to eat. Already laid out on the table was a small bowl of porridge, still steaming slightly as though it had just been made. At that moment Ilana skipped in from the garden.

"Good morning," She chirped, "Porridge is alright isn't it? I thought you might use some decent food inside you, you ate hardly anything yesterday."

Thinking about it she was rather hungry, so she sat down at the table and almost attacked the food in a style much more fitting for Ron or Harry. After finishing the entire bowl and feeling much better for it, she looked across at Ilana, who was looking rather distracted.

"How long have you been out in the garden?" Hermione asked, "I didn't hear you go out this morning."

Thinking about it, she couldn't remember seeing any place where Ilana would sleep.

"Oh, I don't sleep very often," she replied, "I haven't needed to in quite a while. I usually just go outside and rest; that's enough for me these days." She carried on looking around for a few moments before carrying on, "I hope Christin is alright, I haven't sensed anything from him recently. I enjoyed our time here together, he was a wonderful student."

"You trained him here then?" Hermione asked.

"Yeh, it was quite a long time ago now, though not nearly as long as it could have been. It's a downside to who I am I suppose. I live here, and I train people, but I rarely get to see what goes on with the rest of the world." She looked almost sad for a few moments, before visibly shaking it off. "Come on then, lets get started. You are in for a few tough days I think, but we'll see."

With that, Hermione followed her into the training room.

"She what!" Ron shouted.

Dumbledore had taken Harry and Ron out of their lessons personally, an action almost never seen in Hogwarts, and escorted them to the Hospital Wing, where he had explained everything that had happened.

"Ron," Dumbledore said, trying to calm down the situation, "I really don't know what has happened to her. The only person that could truly answer that question is the Professor, but he is still unconscious. I'm sure he will explain everything when he wakes up."

Ron made a move towards where the Professor was lying. "That murdering b-"

Dumbledore grabbed Ron by the arm with an unusually strong grip and looked straight into his eyes, showing him that he was also affected as much by this as they were. "Ron. Don't. If I thought it would do any good I would have tried it myself. Making a move against him will only go badly."

Dumbledore guided the two of them over to the bed where Hermione had been, stopped for a moment, and looked across at Harry. He hadn't said a word since he had started explaining what had happened. Dumbledore reached over and put a hand on his shoulder. "She is going to be all right Harry, and I'm going to prove it to you."

He knew how much this must have affected Harry. All through his early childhood, he hadn't had many friends. Any at all if he was to be truthful, and he felt mostly responsible for this. Hermione and Ron were his first and closest friends, and for him to lose one of them so soon…

Composing himself for a moment, he continued. "You two have spent more time with her than anyone. Close friends like the three of you, have a special sort of connection to each other, and if you concentrate you should be able to get some idea of where she is, or at least how she is feeling. Just put your hand over where she was, and close your eyes. Try to remember some of your strongest memories together and then try and reach out to her."

They did as they were told, and closed their eyes. After a few moments Dumbledore noticed Harry wipe one of his eyes with the back of his hand before continuing to concentrate.

He was just beginning to lose all hope when Ron shouted, "She's alive! I know it!"

He looked across at Harry. He now had a small smile on him face, and spoke in little more than a whisper, "She's reading."

"Typical," said Ron, rolling his eyes.

Hermione collapsed back down on the softened floor once again. She had been given a sword to use designed for training, it was both quite light and blunt around the edges to make it safe to use. She had been shown this person-sized wooden cylinder with poles sticking out of it at various heights, and told to whack the parts of it that lit up. That was the easy part. It became much more challenging when the whole thing decided to randomly rotate. She had to concentrate on jumping or ducking the poles, while still focusing on the cylinder. She had never done any serious sporting activity before, preferring to stay in the library and read, so it wasn't long before she was breathing heavily and being tripped up almost continually.

After being caught in the face by one of the poles, Ilana ended the session and walked over to her.

"That wasn't bad for a first attempt but I think you were focusing a little too much on the attacking. The most important thing to do is not get hurt. Next time, pay more attention to dodging, and only once you feel happy about it should you start trying to attack."

Hermione could only nod at this as she was still breathing heavily.

"After you've had something to eat we will start on some of the magical side to things. You can read a few things in the library as well if you want. I know you have been eager to take a look in there since you first saw it."

With that Hermione placed her sword over on the rack and hobbled out of the room, her muscles complaining with every step. After getting something to eat, she slumped down into a chair in the library and picked up a book entitled, Influential Spells of the Eighteenth Century. For a moment she could have sworn someone was watching her, but Ilana wasn't around, and there was nobody else there. She shrugged and carried on reading.

Somewhere, in a far darker place, someone else was also training. He was twirling a vicious looking blade around with tremendous accuracy, and eying his target. He rushed in and attacked, and the teacher and student traded blows.

A/N – Longer and longer chapters! And so soon after the last one… What is the matter with me! Thanks to the reviewers, always a pleasure to read what you have to say.