The Assassin

The Assassin - Chapter 15

A/N: Wow. Hi. I'm back with another chapter of The Assassin. I'm almost a year post Chemotherapy and I'm happy to tell you all that I'm doing really well for the most part. I'm just physically and mentally exhausted most days. I just had another bone marrow biopsy about a month ago and I'm waiting on one result still, but the rest of those results point to me still being in remission. Thanks for being so patient as I try to get back into things. Enjoy.

The dreadful sound of wood against skin reverberated throughout the large hall as Harry blocked the rotating piece with his right forearm. He only had a mere second to react and stop it from hitting him in the face. His attention was drawn away from that piece as another wooden piece started to swing at ankle height from the left side. His body reacted on autopilot as he jumped in the air to avoid what would have been a rather painful impact. His feet had barely touched the ground before he had to block yet another rotating piece of wood that came at bicep height from his left.

All of Harry's attention was focused on the wooden dummy in front of him. Alastor Moody had enchanted the dummy to rotate its four cylinder arms in a random pattern that progressively got harder as the minutes elapsed. Harry had started to break a sweat around the ten minute mark as he barely got a chance to blink before another piece of wooden had started to head his way. His skin stung with nasty red marks from the points of contact, his muscles ached from the intense activity, his lungs burned and craved for a break. But nonetheless, he couldn't to defend himself from the wooden dummy.

Twenty minutes into the combat practice, Harry had found a groove where he wasn't stood still on the spot. He had figured out that if he moved around the room, the dummy would follow him. Along with that, he realised that if he timed it right, he could kick the wooden dummy back a meter or two which would then allow him a few seconds to collect himself before it chased after him. He hadn't missed the impressed looks from the three onlooking Aurors as he had developed the new system.

Left, right, left, left, jump, kick it back. Breathe for a second. Repeat as the enchanted dummy raced forward to attack him again. Harry had fallen into a comfortable rhythm despite the blur of constant movement from both himself and the wooden structure. He didn't know when they would deem the hand-to-hand combat practice to be over. Perhaps they were testing to see if he would inevitably make a mistake and lose. Perhaps they were testing his stamina. Perhaps they just wanted to see how well he could do. If any of that were the case then Harry could easily go for two hours if required.

This particular type of training was in Harry's element. It was something he felt comfortable doing and had built up his stamina over the years. Hand-to-hand combat was one of the many activities he used to practice back home every other day, if not daily. His body had been conditioned to endure long periods of physical exertion. Out of everything he had been trained in, armed combat was his favourite. The added danger of potentially being inured always sent an extra wave of adrenaline through his veins and gave it an exciting edge like none of the other training methods did.

The rather empty room they were in continued to be filled with the sounds from the battle between Harry and the training dummy, as well as the occasional whispers from the three spectators. They had been granted access to use the Great Hall for the entire day every Saturday and had been assured from the meddling old fool that they wouldn't be disturbed. The middle of the Great Hall had been cleared before they had arrived, all the table pushed to the sides, to allow the three Aurors enough space for their lessons with Harry. While Harry moved around the large space, the three of them were sat on one of the benches to the left of the room.

"Finish it," boomed Alastor's voice all of a sudden.

Harry didn't say anything as he gave one last kick to the wooden dummy and slipped his wand into his palm. His green eyes watched as the wooden arms continued to rotate at a fast speed. He pointed the tip of his wand in the direction of the dummy, very much looking forward to finishing it. Sweat poured from his forehead and his chest rose and fell rapidly. Just as the dummy started to head in his direction, he whispered a spell under his breath, adrenaline thrummed through his veins.