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[24 Feb 2008|11:00am] |
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Friday, January 14, 1997
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[24 Feb 2008|11:59am] |
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Who: Michelle Moon and Neville Longbottom
What: Discoveries and Trainers
When: Afternoon, Friday, January 14, 1997
Where: Room of Requirement
Statis: Incomplete
Rating: no idea yet
She'd become more familiar with this particular set up of the room than she ever thought that she could. It was a sad reality when you could tell what was different in the set up of the Room... when the room itself was trying to pull a fast one on you because your subconsious wanted a slight change...
Today of all days it was like it knew that this was not a day to fool around. She hadn't even bothered with wearing her school robes over the articles she'd deemed her 'training clothes.' This morning the room had set itself to her normal setup. The sabers, foils and other weapons were in their places against the wall. The list was still gone of course, but everything else was there. The mirrors in place where they had been. The bookshelves and cushions were still there... That damn whistle that Harry had used in the early days of the DA - it was sitting on the arm of one of the chairs towards the back... Not to mention her semi-lifelike dummy was there... While it looked like a dummy, the Room - as alive as it was - had made it "alive."
Months ago when she'd started she'd 'needed' an opponent who would show damage and be able to show her her improvements. At the same time this opponent needed to be flexable and unable to truly get hurt... somehow. She needed an opponent who could fire spells and the like back at her... And somehow, somehow this room had been able to produce just a thing. It wasn't much to look at, but it worked... perfectly. It inflicted damage on her. It had gotten to the point several weeks ago that Hermione - on a day when the bushy-haired young woman had seen she was sitting rather uncomfortably - had asked what was wrong... Of course Michelle had just said something about sleeping on her leg and neck funny... She'd learned a spell to help cover these things up the next day...
Call her a glutton for punishment but this training was necessary. It kept her rage, anger and sorrow in check. And in recent months - having decided that sword and wand weren't enough - she'd taken to the study of magick sands wand. It was harder than Professor Dumbledore had made it seem... Many gave her little credit for things but she'd been a watcher. She'd noticed things... Little things that the professor had used to do, those things that many others didn't pay attention to... but that had been Wandless Magic. And for some reason she'd been able to tell.
These things never were easy coming. Training was hard by definition. And right now, hours after her entry into the Room of Requirement she was doing what she always did. Fighting.
Sword in one hand. Wand in the other hand.
Hours after the lunch tray had somehow appeared - She assumed that one of the house elves had come in and seen her... she'd have to thank them later - she was inter-spercing swordwork with wandwork. Purpleish-black flames flying from the end of her wand and the sword hitting its mark. There were several scratches bleeding down her face and hands where she'd been knicked. She was thirsty and tired and her muscles ached but - with a grace that came both naturally and with practice - she didn't stop...
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