A Dark Lord in the Making

Lucius' Dept

"Keep your neck straight, Harry, pushing your head down won't help," Marvolo said sternly. "Or have you developed pecs in your neck, hmm?"

A drop of sweat slid down from his crown, over his nose, until he could taste the salty moisture on his lips. His whole face was warm and clammy, though so was the rest of his body; Harry could only add intense fatigue and sore muscles.

A wooden skewer suddenly appeared under his chin, which pricked viciously at his skin because he still hadn't improved his posture. Immediately he straightened his head and flexed his pecs, shoulders, and arms to push himself up.

"Twenty-four," Harry puffed wearily.

"Six more pushups, Harry," Marvolo said boredly from behind a book he was flipping through.

Harry felt his arms tremble from the effort; he was not used to intensively training his body and looked reluctantly at the position he was in. He was in a plank position, which Marvolo said was good for his 'core'. The man then stated that he could use the stability during the coming school year during Quidditch so that Harry immediately agreed to this training.

Afterward, Harry had to admit that he was naive to think it would become normal training. Marvolo didn't do things halfway but did them meticulously and thoroughly. According to his 'father', Harry did not have enough fighting skills and commitment to make sufficient progress, so Marvolo decided to add an extra incentive to Harry's workout.

Harry's hands were on blocks, his feet were also on a platform, causing his stomach to hang above the ground. At the start of his push-up sets- because only repetition would produce muscle mass- Harry occasionally felt a Stinging Hex on his stomach when he did a push-up with a hollow back. After some corrections, however, Marvolo decided to add an extra stimulus and lit about thirty candles, which Harry effectively hovered over.

As long as Harry kept his posture, the temperature remained pleasant. Harry had noticed, however, that if he lingered too long, the tiny flames burned into his skin. After this, Harry chose to puff out with his arms outstretched - far from the hot flames.

Of course, Marvolo had seen this new 'Hufflepuff' tactic and had put his feet, shoes and all, on his back like a footstool. The man quietly read the newspaper and now a book, while Harry toiled did his exercises. The older wizard pressed his heels into Harry's if he rested too long, forcing him to quickly resume the push-ups.

Apparently, the wooden skewer stuck between Harry's chin and neck was the last stimulus to get him to do the commands properly. In his fatigue, Harry had forced his head down in an effort to make the push-ups easier. This was, of course, corrected by Marvolo- bloody control freak - with a nasty cocktail pick. Harry realized it could always be worse; the wooden skewer could easily have been a sharp pin.

After the very last exercise, the candles finally disappeared and Harry dropped with a thud. He kissed the ground excessively and murmured that he had missed the cool wooden floor. He turned exhausted on his back, legs and arms outstretched, like a spread eagle.

"Merlin's saggy balls," Harry sighed, closing his eyes.

Marvolo looked amused at the teenager who lay on the floor with a ravishing blush. Harry looked quite tired; his cheeks were red, his black hair lay flat on his head- in contrast to the usual messy haircut- and his body was wet with sweat. Best of all, though, were his eyes, which sparkled from the intense workout and seemed even more fiery than usual.

A smug smile appeared on the man's lips. He should really make a Wizard Photo of this and use it in the marriage negotiations. He was sure that hordes of candidates would jump at the chance of including such a delightful specimen in their family, in addition to his great heritage, of course- only the best for a Slytherin.