Awakening the Dragon
Chapter ten:
The wind gusted across thatch covered roofs, around the few stone chimneys that dotted the village below. The ricefields bent and swayed in the gusting wind as Autum slowly slipped into Winter and standing amidst an open field stood two young men watched by several of the villagers.
Stripped to the waist, Harry Potter shivered at the wind's cold caress, and his fingers flexed on theon the long hilt of the practice sword he held. The hot sun had slicked his chest and his dark unruly hair clung to his head in a sweat soaked mat. His nose twitched as a waft of grass pollen caught his senses though in truth he was barely aware of smell or sensation his entire focus tightened on the young man facing him in the area set aside for the two. Young as he was Harry had years of tightly corded musle from Quidditch and menial labour for his aunt and uncle, yet the young man facing him while shorter by several inches was more muscled if not quite as broad in the shoulders. A narrow band of braided leather held the youngs man ebony hair back from his face. Despite the heat and exhertion, only a light sheen of sweatglistened on his chest and arms. Harry searched Yoshi's eyes for some hint of what he intended. Yoshi never seemed to blink, and the practice sword in his hands moved surely and smoothly as he flowed from one stance to another.
With a bundle of thin, loosely bound staves in place of a blade, the practice sword would make a loud clack when it struck anything, and would leave a red welt where it struck flesh. Harry knew all too well. Three thin red lines stung his ribs and another across his shoulders. It took all his effort not to wear more decorations. Yoshi bore not a mark.
The wind rose again and in the field a small dog barked scaring a flock of crows into flight. Harry's eyes flickered to them for a brief moment and almost as if he had read Harry's mind Yoshi attacked, the practice blade flickered in his hands.
For a long minute the swift clack-clack-clack of bundled lathes meeting filled the field. Harry made no effort to reach Yoshi with his practice sword, hell it was all he could do to keep the other young mans sword from his flesh. Turning Yoshi's blows at the last possible moment forced him backwards. Yoshi's expression never changed, the practice sword alive in his hands. Abruptly the young mans swinging slash changed in mid-motion to a thrust. Caught by surprise Harry stumbled backwards yelping as the blade slapped against his ribs and he tumbled into the grass.
Harry sighed as he stood up dusting himself off and picking up his blade he turned to face the now grinning Yoshi. "Again?"
Yoshi shook his head. "No we are done for the day, more welts won't do anything to help you with your training Harry." He shook his head. "You have the skills but you don't focus, your mind is in a thousand different places at once and that is why you always lose in the end."
"I can't help it, I worry." Harry shrugged his shoulders painfully forgetting about the welt across his shoulders. "I know that out there is a man who will kill everyone I care about just to get to me."
Yoshi shook his head. "In battle the sword isn't like your magic, if you combat a single foe with your blade you must give him your full attention or you will find his sword slipping between your ribs."
Yoshi slapped the younger man on the shoulder and grinned at his wince. "When you fight you must be one with your blade and your opponent and no one will be able to stand against you."
Harry simply nodded though how with everything that would be going on around him in a full fledged magical battle he had no idea.
* * * * * * * *
The magical tome sailed through the air smashing into the wall in his fury, how could Potter have found something to use against him, while he, The Dark Lord, power personified with a thousand years of knowledge at his finger tips, nearly three decades of personal study and he was no closer to the prophecy, or to learning what it was that Potter knew.
"WORMTAIL!"
Moments later a snivelling wreck of a man shuffled into the library stepping around the strewn books lying across the floor where they had been thrown. "Y-y-yes Master?" He rubbed his hands together nervously sweat beading his brow and he kneeled leaving himself prostrate.
"Have you found where Dumbledore has hidden the whelp?" Voldemort stared down at the snivelling excuse at his feet his red eye glowing eerily in the candle light.
"N-no M-master, Dumbledore h-has n-no idea where Potter is!" He shook with fear knowing this was not what his Lord wanted to hear.
"That is not good enough Wormtail, what of Potters friends do they know where he is?" Voldemort fingered his wand staring down at him with loathing. "Surely he must have kept in touch with them?"
Wormtail shook his head in the negative frightened to answer. Voldemort cursed his wand waved the tables overturning books spilling to the floor. "Find him Wormtail FIND HIM!"
Whimpering in fear Wormtail scurried out of the Library as the doors slammed shut behind him.
* * * * * * * * *
AN: What can I say things haven't exactly been going well for me recently but I've started to update my stories again, you must forgive me for the long delay it was never intentional.
Yours Truly
The Evil known as Kai Lun Mau
-->