When Hermione Fights

Practice & Training

Practice and Training

These weeks of training had begun to show effect. My condition and fitness had increased exorbitantly. I managed now the laps in the park without breathing like a hippo and also my body began to change. I had often thought that my body was no longer able to withstand this strain, but the mind was willing and strong where the body was weak, and so I had often enjoyed the luxury of regenerative baths, to which I had added many magical plants and oils. All this hard work managed to bring my body to a good level.

Through the lessons of the Sensei I developed muscles in places I had not even known about before the approach. My body changed visibly. Where a feminine softness had prevailed before, my body was now preparing for difficult times. The Sensei was pleased with my zeal and ambition, but also surprised. During my last lesson, he complimented me on my incredible progress in the last few weeks. I thanked him very much for the compliment, but also asked him to take less and less consideration in the fight, and certainly not because I was a woman. In the meantime, I would say that he had accepted my subtlety and, because of my sacrifice, saw himself seized in his honor, to teach me really to fight, without ifs and buts. When one asked Sensei for something, and he followed the request, he did so without compassion. One had previously occupied with the request and thus knew what was due to one.

So he increased step by step the aggression in his attacks. In the following days the training became cruel. When blood flooded for the first time, he was worried about it, but I could calm him down immediately, pointing out that this was just my nose. That blood flowed could happen with such kind of sport sometimes and exactly that was what I wanted, the reality. Now he looked at me like Rita Skeeter did, as if I had lost my mind and as if he would doubt the ability of my mind. I could convince him, however, that other opponents would not take any consideration for a bleeding nose, and told him that I had enough medication in the locker to heal my nose quickly.

What I later too in the locker with my wand, with a simple episkey. The crunching of the cartilages, when they reoriented themselves, did not only hurt in the ears, but the pain could be sustained, although my eyes started to tear and I had to take a deep breath. I got a certain pain resistance, as I said, something better could not happen to me, at least I always tried to convince myself of it. A little makeup against the bloodshot spots on the face, because I didn't really want to explain it to my parents, and I was ready to be seen again. The Sensei looked more than surprised at my healed nose the next day. I gave him a sugary smile, which he replied cautiously. Since we had already agreed that there were some things that would be strange for him, but I would not be able to explain it, he did not ask, because Sensei had accepted this. I could imagine that his curiosity almost killed him, but he was a very controlled man.

Then he did not go easy on me. It became dirtier, more dangerous, and he seemed to lose his scruples. After he realized that he did not hurt me permanently, it seemed to me that he was enjoying this circumstance. I didn't just get bruises, but real injuries and wounds in the now pitiless workout. My mind could be really questioned from here. I became slow but sure tough! Pain from the daily blows gave me less and less trouble, although I did not like them. I learned to ignore and endure a permanent, throbbing pain level and still worked properly. The hours between the training sessions before I could be given new injuries were simply too short for the complete regeneration and so I was doubly thankful for my potions and ointments. But I tried not to take them too often or excessively, since I neither wanted to weaken their effect by becoming too frequent, nor wanted to be dependent on them.

So I learned to live with the daily pain.

It is clear that I sometimes doubted myself and what I was doing, but I would still go the way I choose. Whether I liked it or not. It was at least better than to do nothing, and I forbade myself too much self-pity. It was a good exercise. As always, I was willing to use all the resources at my disposal, but it was also very exhausting, because the spells were not so easy. Nevertheless, it was getting better, although I realized very clearly that I was not a born healer witch.

But I also had to realize that the dark magic curses around Rita had made much less problems than the partly very complicated healing magic. Of course I made it as usual to speak these spells, but it was not really me and I didn't have fun! All in all, it was an excellent preparation for the very uncertain and increasingly dark future. The reports in the Prophet have reported the disappearance of sorcerers over the past few weeks, and just a few reappeared. The Muggle newspapers also wrote about unusual events, which could not be explained for them, but gave me a lot of hints about the action of Death Eaters. All this confirmed me in my actions. I hadn't begun to prepare too early. Especially in such situations, I often had to think about Harry or Ron, and that they were certainly not prepared and enjoyed their holidays in Ron's case and Harry, well, he would be annoyed by his relatives over one or the other meadow.

I had written both Ron and Harry letters. Along with Ron, I had sent Harry chocolate for his fifteenth birthday. In my letters, I tried to console Harry about the horror of having seen Cedric's death in front of his eyes, but I didn't really believe that it helped much, because I myself was heartbroken. I wasn't sure how I should get the two motivated to do more, not just learn more but to see more, hear more. Oh, I don't know just to see this whole thing, much more seriously, because I could not do more than I already did. My wish was that they would grow up and quickly! I knew Harry was not easy, and he clung to a hypocritical youth, considering that he had never had an infancy. I just hoped he did not have too many bad nightmares and managed to distance himself from it. Although I knew he still blamed himself for the fact that Pettigrew had escaped in the third year, and thus had the opportunity to assassinate Cedric when they both had arrived at the cemetery, but that was fate and unfortunately I knew Harry only too well. He just sank safely in self-pity.

I just hoped the best for Harry, and I was trying to concentrate on my tasks before me. Since the third week of the holidays, I dealt intensively with the topic of occlumency and legilimency. This was a topic that I was interested in at an early stage, but when I realized what an effort was behind it, I had pushed it away from me. But now it seemed important to me. When I thought that a Death Eater had managed to sneak into Hogwarts for almost a year, I felt sick!

What kind of information could he have gotten if he had been more magically powerful. So I wanted to not only protect myself, but also prepare for the attack. I got all the information, so that I was able to tackle occlumency, because I put the defense here first in the foreground, which ultimately proved to be very time consuming. In my book has been written:

Occlumency (latin occultare = hiding and mens = thought, spirit) is the magical art by means of which a person is able to shield itself from the thoughts and emotions of others. Whoever masters this art can keep his true attitudes and feelings secret even from those who try to see and influence him with powerful magical means. As with the defense of the imperial curse, this requires much will power: only one's own will can prevent others from seeing their own feelings, the sad, happy, or hurtful experiences. Occlumency is easy to break up when a would-be occlusionist can not concentrate fully on the secrecy of his thoughts and feelings. He is more vulnerable when he is angry or other strong emotions distract him. If he is tired, his opponent has an easy game, because his advance is little resistance. No active occlumency can be used to protect the world of thought in the night from foreign invaders. It is therefore helpful to always consciously empty your own head before falling asleep.

Well, the necessary will should be available and I thought I had enough willpower, otherwise I would have long since abandoned my erroneous routine. I was sure that Snape and Dumbledore had mastered this art, and I would not be surprised if they used it frequently. I had to arm myself against it, because it would not suit me well, if they should so simply sniff around in my secret thoughts. This could lead to consequences that I was not ready to accept. One of the most important things to do to achieve this art, to close one's mind, was to learn meditating. For such a restless mind as mine not the easiest exercise, but I also took up this challenge again, and I began meditating every day, practicing as it was described in the book, emptying the mind just before sleeping.