At six in the morning, everyone except Tobias met in the common room. Ten minutes later, we were already standing in the courtyard, beginning our warm-up. At first, we were all still yawning, but the chilly Scottish morning woke us up quickly.
We started with a short warm-up focused mainly on stiff joints and tendons from the waist down. Then came a few minutes of jogging to warm up our bodies. While Draco and I were completely fine physically, Theodore was already starting to breathe heavier, and Agnes… she looked like she was about to collapse at any moment.
Inwardly, I blamed all those pancake feasts in the Alps… Last year, her fitness was substantially better.
"What now?" Draco asked after the jog. "Are we doing sprints?"
"Yeah," I nodded. "We'll do short sprints for explosive movement, and then we can switch to agility sprints."
"M-Morgana, g-give me strength," Agnes wheezed, her hand resting on her chest.
"You shouldn't have eaten so many pancakes, Agnes," Theo teased with a smile, though he didn't look too great either.
"Let's do this," Draco said, amused. "Flint announced Quidditch tryouts for next week, so I need to be in the best shape possible." He tapped his foot impatiently and then turned to Agnes. "Fewer pancakes, more running!"
Agnes instantly glared at him. If she had a wand in her hand, I was pretty sure she would have singed his eyebrows off… luckily, she restrained herself. With an effort, she straightened up, and we could continue.
First, we started with longer sprints across the courtyard, about half the length of a football pitch. It took its toll on all of us equally… because every single one of us was going all out.
And even though I was used to this kind of exertion, pushing my limits was always enough to give my cardio a serious workout. We did six reps like this, which I considered sufficient. At least for now.
"Catch your breath, jog a bit so we don't stiffen up, and then we'll move on to short agility sprints," I said, breathing heavily.
For the next few minutes, we kept a relaxed jog. Us guys were relatively fine, but Agnes had genuinely had enough and was wheezing as if she were on her deathbed.
"We can move to agility sprints," I announced to them, then turned to Agnes. "Not you, Agnes. You'd end up having a heart attack…"
Agnes was squatting on her tiptoes, and her only response was another desperate wheeze.
"Take a break…" I shook my head. "You're so out of shape that you were probably mouth-breathing most of the time… and that cold morning air certainly didn't do your lungs any favors."
Quickly, I pulled a match out of my pocket and, with a swift Verto, transformed it into a comfortable, warm armchair.
Agnes gratefully collapsed into it.
I pulled out another few matches and transformed them into orange cones. I placed them a decent distance apart, with sharp turns to the sides and back, so the runner would be forced to constantly change direction.
"Ready?" I asked the guys.
Both nodded, and so almost simultaneously we all broke into a sprint between the cones.
I considered this exact training to be one of the most crucial aspects of preparing for magical combat. Magic alone wasn't enough. Having plenty of spells but little physical stamina meant that after a while, you simply wouldn't be able to keep fighting.
I already knew that Agnes would no longer be the best duelist in our group…
After a few more sprints, with one-minute breaks in between, we had all had more than enough.
"Agnes, cool-down jog with us," I instructed her.
She looked like she wanted to protest, so with a brief flex of magic, I began to slowly dissolve the transfiguration she was sitting on. As soon as the cushion started disappearing, she jumped to her feet with her mouth agape.
And so we ran on, even passing Hagrid's new cabin.
It was no longer an ordinary wooden hut, but a smaller single-story house that looked extraordinarily durable. It was built of stone and bricks. However, if anyone expected the luxury he could undoubtedly afford, they would be mistaken… The house was built primarily with functionality and practicality in mind.
"I heard Hagrid got a massive fine," Draco announced to us with a smirk, and in response to our curious looks, he continued: "Father said up to ten thousand Galleons."
"For what reason?" I asked curiously.
If they knew that Hagrid was responsible for the overpopulation of Acromantulas in the Forbidden Forest, he definitely wouldn't have escaped Azkaban. So the reason had to be something else.
"Well, he failed in his duties as gamekeeper…" Draco replied. "It was his duty to inform the Headmaster and, through him, the Ministry. Acromantulas aren't a native species to Britain, and their uncontrolled breeding poses a serious problem."
"A deserved fine," I nodded in agreement.
I could have snitched on Hagrid too. They definitely didn't know he was responsible for the Acromantulas… but in this case, I blamed Dumbledore more. Hagrid was a nice guy, but when it came to certain things, his foolishness was dangerous. And the Headmaster… he should have known better.
He definitely must have known about it.
"Deserved," Theo piped in. "But let's go, so we can make it to breakfast and get some rest."
Agnes was the first to gasp out a wheeze trying to say something, but ultimately just nodded.
With a few flicks of my wand, I cleaned us all up. We were groomed, clean, and without a single drop of sweat. I really loved cosmetic and hygiene spells. I used them so often that I now performed them completely automatically and even non-verbally.
"You guys can go ahead to breakfast. I'll grab your bags," I offered.
"Thanks, I owe you one," Draco nodded gratefully.
"Thank you," Theo joined in immediately.
Agnes just let out an understanding sigh, so while the guys headed straight for breakfast, the two of us went straight to the Slytherin common room.
The password was still "Power and Glory", so I entered the common room with a smirk, accompanied by Agnes's confused gaze.
"I'll meet you here," I told Agnes, and after she agreed, we each headed up our respective staircases.
The big downside of Accio was that it simply wasn't teleportation, and a summoned object couldn't open doors on its own.
That didn't stop me from using it the moment I opened the door, though.
"What the—?" burst out probably-Zabini in surprise.
I didn't care, though. Carrying the three bags, I simply went down the stairs where Agnes was already waiting for me, ready to go.
Just as I was walking down, I noticed an almost hidden trio of students. Flint, Montague, and Higgs. As soon as my eyes met the last mentioned, he gave me a nod in greeting.
I returned the nod and headed straight toward them.
"Flint, a word?" I asked from behind him.
He startled and whipped around. For a moment he stared at me with dilated pupils, clearly surprised that I had addressed him. Ultimately, though, he just nodded and stood up from his armchair.
Standing opposite me, a bit further from the others, I quickly realized he was taller than me… not by much, but still, I couldn't wait until I reached my original height. This way, I had to look up into his eyes, and it felt like an odd sensation.
He had absolutely no Occlumency. I didn't sense fear from him, though, but rather caution. He spoke first.
"I'll leave Weasley alone," he said calmly.
I was surprised for a moment, but then I shook my head as realization struck.
"I couldn't care less about Weasley. If you enjoy bullying an eleven-year-old girl, go right ahead… I don't give a damn, Flint. But if you were to attack her—physically or magically—that's when I'd have a problem, and I'd definitely get involved."
"So what do you want then? If this is about Quidditch… then unfortunately," he shook his head, looking into my eyes with a cautious but honest gaze, and added: "Your skill on a broom is already pretty well-known."
I sighed heavily and shook my head again.
"I don't care about Quidditch, I care about Slytherin's success," I replied.
Flint looked at me for a second and then let out a short burst of laughter.
This whole game of manipulation and subtle hints really wasn't my style… Flint's laugh wasn't mocking; it was honest feedback. I was terrible at pretending or dancing around the point, so I decided to be direct.
"Alright, fair enough… I couldn't care less about Slytherin," I admitted. "What I do care about are my friends. I heard you might be interested in some new brooms… but that's not going to happen, Flint."
Flint stared at me for a moment. The smile faded from his face, and he calmly waited for what I had to say next.
"If Draco doesn't make the team just because you didn't get your brooms… I will be very unhappy, Flint."
"So what?" he asked carefully after a moment. "What if he doesn't earn a spot? If he's worse, I can't just take him for no reason…"
"All I want from you is to be fair. If he's worse, he doesn't get the spot… but if he's better and you don't pick him…" I shook my head. "I think you understand me."
"You'll hurt me," he stated, still calmly. "I get it."
I nodded with a smile.
"If you hurt me though, you'll be in trouble, Rosier," he said calmly, testing me. He still had that direct, honest gaze. There was caution in it, but no fear. Flint definitely had balls.
"Yes," I agreed with a nod. "I will be in trouble. But I'll pay the fine without a problem and you'll still end up in the Hospital Wing… and if I'm ever in a bad mood, it might happen again. For example, right before a match."
For the first time, a flash of fear flickered in Flint's eyes. In the end, though, he nodded.
"You're a real bastard, Rosier," he shook his head, but ultimately promised me: "The tryouts will be fair."
"I certainly am. Especially when it comes to my friends," I agreed with a smile. "Thanks, Flint."
I gave him a nod, and together with Agnes, we headed to the Great Hall for breakfast.
"We're having quite a successful morning, Agnes. I've definitely worked up quite an appetite, too," I say with a satisfied smile.
"G-Gorgeous," she replied sarcastically, still wheezing between words.
By the time we reached the Great Hall, I had time to think. It was true that Quidditch and flying on a broom really weren't my thing… but a broom wasn't the only way to fly.
I knew Voldemort managed it without a broom. The question was how.
I didn't know if it was some spell, a use of special magic, a ritual, or something else entirely… It could easily be some advanced transfiguration as well.
I vaguely recalled that Snape could also fly without a wand, but I wasn't sure at all.
Asking wouldn't hurt, anyway.
Just as we arrived in the Great Hall, the guys were already happily eating. Theo and Draco were having omelets as usual. After my lecture on the importance of healthy fats and proteins, they already knew it was a great way to start the day. Tobias, of course, as always, preferred greasy baked sausages with baked beans in tomato sauce.
While I helped myself to an omelet without hesitation, Agnes fought a brief inner battle. In the end, though, the omelet won out over pancakes with maple syrup.
"First up, we have a double period with Professor Snape," Theodore announced.
"And with Gryffindor," Draco added.
"I'm definitely not looking forward to Potions," I admitted after swallowing a bite.
"You can partner up with me," Draco offered with a smile.
"N-no," Agnes wheezed. "H-he's with me as always!"
"You still have time for a quick duel before class," Theo smirked with amusement.
"She can barely talk, let alone duel," Draco laughed.
"F-Fire only takes one incantation," Agnes growled, her voice still raspy.
"I'll partner with Agnes," I put an end to their banter. "I don't really care much for Potions anyway."
That settled the argument, and we quietly continued with breakfast.
After a moment, Theo spoke up.
"Patrik, we've been thinking…" he began seriously.
"Yes?" I prompted him.
"We thought it might be better if we held off on our next duel until the tournament. We should skip sparring, at least until the end of September."
I scanned the faces of my four friends. Each of them nodded in agreement, so I nodded too.
"Alright," I agreed.
They might have improved significantly over the holidays, but definitely not that much… I had spent the entire summer sparring with a top-class witch—my Aunt Vespera, who commanded a vast repertoire of spells, ranging from the simplest to the extraordinarily complex.
So… honestly, I didn't expect any of them to be able to defeat me right now.
Even though it was a bit of a shame to go a month without sparring… just then, my eyes landed on old acquaintances of mine: Alexander Mulciber and Augustus Rookwood.
I quickly wolfed down the rest of my breakfast and stood up.
"Where are you going?" Draco asked. "We still have twenty minutes before Potions."
"To get myself some new sparring partners," I replied with a smile and headed over to them.
Rookwood had some book open, from which I could sense faint illusion magic. Mulciber, meanwhile, was quietly eating his breakfast.
"Good morning, guys," I greeted them with a charming smile and sat down next to Augustus.
"Good morning," Alexander replied, while Augustus merely nodded.
"Did you sleep well?" I asked politely.
"Yes. And you?" Mulciber replied with equal politeness.
Augustus merely scoffed with an amused smirk.
"What do you want, Rosier?"
I sighed with disappointment. After Flint, Rookwood was the second person to see right through my feigned politeness. Mulciber's amused expression told me I hadn't fooled him either.
"You two are quite magically capable," I got straight to the point. "I need opponents for training. Regular sparring."
Mulciber and Rookwood looked at each other and then back at me.
"Last year you already proved that we're no challenge for you," Augustus stated dryly.
Alexander nodded in agreement and then asked:
"And what do we get out of it? Besides drowning?"
"Regular magical training, my help in improving your combat skills, assistance with learning new spells if needed…" I offered earnestly. I paused for a moment and added with a smirk: "And, of course, no drowning."
"Of course," Augustus repeated sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
"We'll think about it and let you know," Alexander finally said.
I nodded and stood up from the table.
"I'd appreciate it if you let me know as soon as possible," I added, and with a nod from them, I headed back to my friends.
"So?" Draco asked.
"They'll let me know," I shrugged. "Shall we?"
"Let's go," Tobias replied, wiping his greasy hands on a napkin. I thought better of it and gave them a thorough cleaning with a flick of my wand.
He nodded in gratitude, and together, carrying our bags, we headed off to Potions.
***
Author's note:
Agnes spent the vacation feasting on pancakes… while completely neglecting cardio. But honestly, who hasn't felt like her during an early morning workout after coming back from vacation?
Hagrid's fine would have been roughly £49,000, €57,000, or $66,000.
Flint is definitely not stupid… he's still a Slytherin, after all, and there is no point in making an enemy when the MC only wants a fair selection process. Also, fun fact: while checking the wiki, I found out that Rowling actually made a mistake. In the first book, Flint was a seventh-year student. In the second book, he was still a seventh-year student. And somehow, in the third book, he was still a seventh-year student. Haha Even great authors make mistakes sometimes… and apparently, even the editor missed it!
Our MC might be completely hopeless with a broom… but maybe flying in Voldemort's style will work out for him.
I have a feeling that Mulciber and Rookwood are going to become really good friends with our MC. What do you think? Especially now that he hopefully won't drown them anymore.
***
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Upcoming Chapters – Already Written(15):
97. Thrill of the Fight
98. Calculated Risk
99. Flight and Fortune
100. Calculated Arrogance
101. GW: A Cunning Kind of Courage
102. GW2: My Best Friend
103. Pride Before the Haircut
104. Fire and Thunder
105. Better to Be Feared
106. A Serial Killer Under the Bed
107. The Legacy of Rookwood Castle
108. Worse Than Horcruxes
109. Cleansed by Fire
110. Running Dead
111. I'm Dying
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