Dark Defense

Return to Hogwarts.

After, reluctantly, rescuing Kreacher from Sirius' rage and calming the man down, the last of the Black's promptly pulled rank and ordered Kreacher, under penalty of DEATH, to never set foot outside his den, threatening to curse his mothers' portrait into oblivion if he did not comply.

Kreacher, who would normally endure any hardship simply to spite Sirius and his 'blood-traitor friends', had instantly fallen in line, his eyes wide with terror at the prospect of his beloved mistress being harmed in any way. The ancient elf had withdrawn so completely into his den that the only thing that could be seen were his terrified eyes and squeaks, which would only intensify whenever someone came near.

Hermione of course, had tried speaking up for the elf, but Harry and Sirius had simply pointed out that Kreacher could have very well sold out the Order's secrets, if not the location of their Head Quarters, to one of Voldemort's most devout followers. This shut the prefect up rather sharply, though she DID still make a point of reminding them that he needed food and water.

Harry would have gladly seen the little bastard starve, but that brought up images of his imprisonment in that cupboard under the Dursley's staircase, and he'd relented, which in turn bought a small allowance from Sirius, who would allow Kreacher to leave the den for food and drink, provided he did NOT leave the house, and did NOT interact with anyone, or thing. The fact he'd done so while leveling his wand at his mother's, sufficiently shocked portrait, had driven the point home that HE was the master of this house, and that the opinions of the shriveled old harpy meant little.

Harry had been practicing his sword strokes in the grand hall of Grimmauld Place, which Sirius had considered an amusing sight and would often sit in for hours watching, when Mrs. Weasley entered, eyeing the teen's Zweihander in disapproval, before calling out to him, stating he had a visitor.

Harry, who had worked up quite a sweat, forgoing his shirt in favor of simply training in jeans and shoes, had nodded and followed her out, his sword once again in it's harness as he entered the kitchen, only to blink at the sight of the person sitting there, drinking tea.

"Potter." Vergil greeted, nodding at the teen with a quirked eyebrow, taking in the shirtless torso and the sweat trailing down his arms "Good to see you're keeping up with practice."

"Professor?" Harry greeted, nodding his head and looking around for Mrs. Weasley, who'd offered to get him a clean shirt when she'd seen how sweaty his old one had become "What're you doing here?"

"Dumbledore sent me." Vergil replied, looking over the teen with a calculative expression "He apparently found out about my instructing you in the basics of mental shielding and was intending to send Snape out to coach you in it." he quirked an eyebrow at Harry's scowl "Snape, however, suggested that since I had already set you on the path, I should be the one to train you." His lip quirked at that "He really doesn't like you, does he?"

"Feeling's mutual." Harry muttered, leaning against the counter and grabbing a glass of water from the sink, sighing as it helped him cool down from his workout "So are we going to practice today?"

"Later." Vergil admitted, nodding his head as he sipped at the tea that Mrs. Weasley had set out before him, Yamato resting at his side "But first, I want to see how you, the Weasley's and Miss Granger have been keeping up with your studies…"

Later...

What followed next was quite possibly the most grueling four hours of the teens' lives, as Vergil put them through their paces, non-stop, until he was satisfied.

Harry had been paired off against Fred, who was wielding an impressive looking axe, and took great pleasure in using his superior beater's strength to fend off Harry's strikes, though he DID keep a wary eye on the teen's weapon nonetheless. Ron had been paired with George, the teen's spear proving a plausible defense against his brother's own axe, though mainly because it kept the older Weasley at a distance.