Dark Defense

The Legend of Sparda.

Harry groaned as he sat up in bed the next morning, his entire body a mass of sores and stiff muscles as he clambered out of bed, only to be met by looks of equal discomfort on the faces of his roommates.

"Bloody Hell…" Ron swore, popping his back into place as he leant against the pillar of his bed for support, thumping his stiff shoulders in a bid to loosen them up "S'like that time Fred and George hid a bludger in my room and didn't tell me."

"Reminds me of the time I got into a rugby scrum with my cousin." Dean moaned, his entire body creaking as he stumbled towards his trunk "Daft twat weighed as much as a rhino and he kept piling on me with his mates."

Harry, who was used to rough treatment after years of abuse from the Dursleys, simply held his silence and turned his attention to the sword and harness he'd placed on the side of his trunk, looking over it in awe as he marveled once again over it's deadly beauty.

"Still," Seamus muttered, an eager grin on his face as he pulled out his own weapons, a rather deadly looking pair of axes that he twirled, carefully, in small circles before him so they caught the light "Well worth it don't you think."

"Definitely." Ron agreed, pulling out his own weapon from it's satchel, shaking it out and turning the central grip, causing the pole-arm to clack into place, marveling over the weapon as he set about checking it over as instructed "You think the Slytherins got anything like this?"

"Prof Vergil doesn't strike me as the type that picks favorites." Dean muttered, looking non-too pleased at that idea any more than the rest of them "At the very least he's only handed out weapons to the fifth years and up. I heard a couple of First-years complaining last night."

Harry, shivering at the image of facing off against the entire Slytherin House, armed to the teeth and wielding unforgivable curses, promptly shrugged it off as he slipped his harness over his clothes, the weight of his weapon sending a comforting feeling through the teen, who dimly wondered if Malfoy had anything as impressive.

"Harry! Ron!" Hermione called out, waving at the teen from the common room, her Falchion at her waist and a book bag over her shoulder as she waved at the duo "Have you finished your essays?"

"I'm stopping by Professor Vergil's office later today for a little help with mine." Harry admitted, earning a look of surprise from Ron "He said he'd help me out a bit with source material if I didn't change my mind."

"Well at least you're getting somewhere then…" Hermione reasoned, looking a bit uncertain as they made their way past a group of envious Second years and down the steps to the main hall, eager to get some breakfast into them before setting off.

The sight as they entered the hall was one to see, as most of the older students, from fifth year upwards, were comparing weapons with their peers, some of them sending looks across the tables to see what the other houses were sporting.

Harry caught sight of Malfoy, looking rather smug as he walked along with an impressive looking saber at his hip, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle, who were looking decidedly more troll-like with their morning star and spiked gloves respectively. The Slytherin git caught sight of Harry and smirked, apparently believing that Harry's lack of a belt sheath implied he hadn't rated a weapon, only to pale, his eyes bulging out of their sockets as Harry turned, deliberately, to reveal the weapon harnessed across his back.

"Did you see the look on his face?" Ron cackled, watching as Malfoy stormed off, his face a mask of jealous, impotent rage at being shown up, once again, by the Boy-Who-Lived "Teach him to go around acting all tough."

"Boys…" Hermione sighed, shaking her head at the redhead's immaturity, looking up at the table to find Professor Vergil finishing his breakfast, apparently heedless of the disapproving look he was receiving from McGonagall "Umbridge is missing."