Nobody ever asked my birthday

Chapter 142

"Enough hornswaggle, we came here to fight, didn't we?" Harry said, pulling his wand. "Better be light, better be fast, Better jump quick, or be caught in the blast." Those were the last words Harry said, other than spells. He viciously reminded himself (as he rolled out of the way of something wicked that he didn't recognize from Malfoy's wand - he only knew it was wicked from the bright gleam in Malfoy's eye.) to use wand movements, to play within the rules.

That was the problem with training with people smarter than you were - you couldn't bluff them. "Oi, how'd you do that spell?" "I found it, in a book." Ha! Imagine trying that with Hermione Granger!? She'd have the size of the book, down to the centimeter, and then she'd have the weight and the color, and within a few hours, she'd have the actual book in her clever paws.

He spoke spells, casting them in a normal tone of voice, his body well trained like a musician's - taking oxygen where he could, but mostly forging on without it. Lifegiving breath was overrated anyway.

Time always seemed to go slower during combat, so Harry wasn't surprised when Hermione said, "You're dead, Harry. You too, Malfoy."

Waving her wand one last time, Hermione revealed bright gleen splotches on Malfoy's black robes. Harry Potter couldn't help cracking up. "Just look at you!" He chuckled.

Malfoy sneered, snapping back, "Look at yourself!"

Harry Potter did, looking down at his nearly covered in gleen robes, and then, a naughty thought came to him. He pulled himself up straight, and put on one of those Charming Grins that Sirius had so favored. "Ah, but I look good in it." Harry knew his grin oozed confidence to the point of arrogance.

"Arrogant twat." Malfoy snapped at him.

"Speccy git." Potter snapped back, his eyes sparked sharp.

"Boys!" Hermione said, her hands on her hips, "More casting, less talking."

They got back to work.

By the end of the practice time, everyone had something to work on, whether they realized it or not. Harry Potter said, with a sigh, "Time!"

"Okay, we'll go round. Self-evaluation first. What do you need to improve?"

"Stamina." Hermione said, still trying to catch her breath.

"Aim." Malfoy said, in a surprising display of self-awareness and honesty.

"Variety." Harry put in, knowing that it would mean hours of studying in the library, just to pick up things he could make himself in minutes. Still... it was the truth, he had felt very, very hobbled here, and wanted to be... free. Or as free as one could be in the non-Wild realm of magic. Seriously, why had Snape not mentioned that?

Harry Potter had not made much of a move to leave after the practice, and he could tell that Hermione was abruptly deciding that maybe it wasn't such a good idea to leave the two hotheads alone in a room together, for pretty much any reason. Which meant that the private conversation that Harry Potter had wanted, wasn't going to be happening anytime soon.

"Tea?" Harry Potter asked, a stove popping into view at his command.

Malfoy flinched at the unexpected arrival of a modern applicance and then stared, completely dumbfounded.

Hermione eventually said, "Yes please, Harry." And Harry Potter mentally thanked Hermione for not making it into a squabblefight over who was going to make the bloody tea.

[a/n: 1) What does Harry want to talk about, privately? (easyq) 2) Why hasn't Snape mentioned Wild Magic before? (hard q).

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