On Saturday morning, I discovered that Anunu had taken his Christmas present very seriously.
Breakfast was pancakes with pieces of fruit beneath a thin layer of honey. The first bite tasted of apple. The second, pear.
By the third, I was staring at my plate.
"What is this?"
"Breakfast, Master Oliver."
"I'd worked that much out."
Anunu pointed to the book lying open at the other end of the table.
"Fruit Surprise Pancakes."
I tried another bite.
Raspberries.
"Good."
His ears rose with satisfaction.
"Anunu can make more."
"Let me finish these first."
He went back to the tea, though he kept glancing at my plate.
Evelyn watched him from the portrait opposite.
"The present seems to have come in useful."
"I heard him arguing with the book last night."
Anunu turned.
"They were adding the butter too early."
"What did the cook say?"
"That's what the recipe says."
"And you?"
The elf glanced at the open page.
"Anunu did it his own way."
Evelyn smiled over her knitting.
I took another bite of pancake. If every disagreement with an author ended like this, I wasn't going to interfere.
After breakfast, I turned to my letters.
The first was for Dumbledore. I'd sent the last one on Christmas Eve, so another was due.
Dear Professor Dumbledore,
I am still at the estate, and everything is fine. I spent Christmas with my family. Nothing has happened that requires Ministry intervention.
Oliver Peverell
I read the last sentence again.
It might have been unnecessary.
I left it in.
I thanked Draco for the wand-care kit and answered his questions about duelling. I didn't know when Mara would let him compete or who she would put him against. I told him we would speak to her once we were back at school.
At the end, I assured him I had no plans to disappear again.
Blaise's letter only needed a few lines. Richard had taken almost as much interest in his book as I had, which I made sure to mention. I also added that if he intended to bet on my next duel, he did so at his own risk.
After recent events, I wasn't about to promise anyone a reliable income.
Anunu took the finished envelopes. I leaned back in my chair and reached for a book.
"Finished?"
Frederick was sitting in the portrait beside the fireplace.
"With the letters? Yes."
"Then bring your duelling notes."
I looked at the book I'd just opened.
"Now?"
"I waited until Christmas was over."
It was difficult to accuse him of being impatient.
Though I could try.
I arranged the parchment on a stand in front of his portrait in the study. Frederick read through it, occasionally asking me to turn a page or go back to an earlier description.
He spent longest on the duel with Elliot Marsh.
"Show me where you were standing."
I took a blank sheet and drew a rectangle, marking where I remembered each of us being.
Frederick studied the sketch.
"You stepped back here?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"I needed more room."
"For what?"
I hesitated.
It had seemed obvious at the time. Marsh attacked, I moved back, avoided the spell, and had a chance to respond.
"To react."
"And did you get it?"
I looked at the drawing.
"For a moment."
"Then you were closer to the wall, with less room for your next dodge."
I traced the route with the tip of my quill.
"I could have moved sideways."
"Perhaps. I didn't see the duel. But from your account, you retreated straight back, which was exactly what your opponent was forcing you to do."
I looked through the notes again. I'd mostly recorded spells, hits, and things I'd managed to pull off. I only mentioned my position once it started causing problems.
"I should describe it more carefully next time."
"Yes. But first, it would help to start noticing it during the fight."
We moved on.
At one point, Frederick praised my change of pace. At another, he asked why I hadn't attacked sooner. I couldn't always answer.
Sometimes, I remembered making a decision.
Sometimes, I only remembered that it had worked.
After a while, I put down my quill.
"I'm beginning to think I won by accident."
Frederick looked at me.
"You didn't win by accident. You did several things well, and you recovered when the opening didn't go your way."
"But?"
"But winning makes it harder to notice mistakes your opponent failed to punish."
That was annoyingly reasonable.
He studied the sketch again.
"Let's go to the training room. We'll see which of these decisions were one-offs."
Anunu had placed three targets around the training room. One was near the left wall, another straight ahead, and the third beside a pillar.
Frederick appeared in the portrait near the entrance.
"All three to begin with. Any order."
I drew my wand.
"Stupefy!"
The first target glowed red. I turned, hit the second, adjusted my feet, and sent a spell at the third.
It took only a few seconds.
Frederick nodded.
"Good. Anunu, set them moving."
The elf adjusted a metal lever. The targets began moving along their tracks.
I hit the first immediately. The second changed direction just before my spell reached it, so I had to try again. The third vanished behind the pillar.
I ran after it and cast as soon as its edge came into view.
A hit.
"Stop," Frederick said.
I lowered my wand.
"Well?"
"Your aim is good. I want to see that last movement again. Without the spell."
I returned to my previous position. Anunu activated only the target beside the pillar, and I followed it as before.
"Stop there."
I halted close to the stone column.
"Look at how much you can see on the other side."
Not much. I would have to lean out or take another step.
"You've moved right up to the corner," Frederick said. "When you come round it, you'll expose almost your whole body at once. Take two steps back and move a little to your left."
I did as he asked.
From there, I could gradually see more of the space beyond the pillar. I still had cover, and I didn't have to run straight into a spot I couldn't see.
"That was an aiming exercise," I pointed out. "The target wasn't going to attack me."
"Correct. I'm not counting it as a failure. I wanted to see how you naturally pursued a target. Now we'll add something that can answer back."
Anunu uncovered two low devices beside the walls. One had an opening the size of a fist; the other was similar, mounted on a rotating base.
Frederick explained the rules before we began.
The targets were there to be hit. The devices could fire weak training projectiles from different directions. I had to land my spells, avoid being struck, and stay alert until I heard the end signal.
"Without using your eyes' abilities for now."
I looked at him.
"Why?"
"I want to see how you judge the situation without extra information. Then we'll see what changes when you have it."
I didn't object. If there was a gap in my ordinary defences, I would rather find it here.
Anunu checked the settings.
"Ready?" Frederick asked.
I raised my wand.
The first projectile came from the left.
"Protego!"
It bounced off the shield. Almost at the same moment, a target appeared in front of me.
I attacked.
The spell hit, but I turned my whole body with it, taking the right-hand launcher out of my field of view. I heard a click and threw myself sideways.
The projectile passed close to my shoulder.
I kept moving. Another target was travelling along the wall, but before I could aim, I had to shield again.
"Stop."
I straightened and looked at the device on my right.
"I turned too far."
"Yes."
"But I hit both targets."
"You did."
He said nothing else.
He didn't need to.
On the next attempt, I watched the right-hand side so closely that I was late attacking the target on my left. Then I backed away from two projectiles and found myself beside the wall.
At the end signal, I glanced behind me.
Exactly like the sketch.
Frederick didn't have to point it out.
"Again," I said.
This time, I moved sideways earlier. I had more room, but during a quick turn I planted my foot badly and had to recover my balance.
My spell missed the target.
I gritted my teeth.
Over the next fifteen minutes, I discovered several new ways to respond correctly to one problem and immediately create another.
Frederick only stopped the exercise when he wanted to show me something specific. Otherwise, he let me get on with it.
It was considerably more tiring than his questions.
After a break, he let me use my right eye.
Familiar lines of magic filled the room. The wards, the targets, the devices along the walls—each had a structure I hadn't been able to see before.
I examined the nearest launcher.
It didn't show me where the next projectile would go. But I could make out the machine itself more clearly against the enchantments that moved and powered it.
"A short attempt," Frederick warned. "We're not testing how much your eye can take today."
I nodded.
At first, it went better.
It was easier to pick out the moving target against the wards. I found it sooner, cast, and immediately checked the other side.
The next target disappeared behind the pillar.
Instead of running straight after it, I moved back at an angle. I caught a glimpse of its magic, then the edge of the target itself.
I was in a good position.
I wanted to take the chance.
I heard the click on my left at the last moment.
I threw up a shield too hastily and lost sight of the target.
"Stop."
I let the sight fade and lowered my wand.
Frederick waited until I looked at him.
"Could you see more?"
"Yes."
"And what almost hit you?"
I glanced at the launcher.
"The same thing as before."
I rested my free hand on my hip.
The extra information helped. It didn't change the fact that once I found an opening, I wanted to take it immediately.
"I focused on the target."
"Exactly. You weren't missing information about the other device. You stopped paying attention to it."
I looked at the pillar.
"I could have let that attack go."
"You could also have positioned yourself differently beforehand. I don't want you passing up every opening now. I want you to notice what taking it will cost."
For a moment, I replayed the movement in my head.
"Can we try the same sequence?"
Frederick nodded.
"Without the eye. Footwork first."
By evening, my arms felt heavy, and my thighs reminded me of every abrupt stop.
I hadn't been hit, but I could hardly call the training gentle.
Richard found me in the drawing room with my legs stretched towards the fire.
"How did it go?"
"Frederick found a few things to work on."
"Only a few?"
I looked at him.
He smiled.
"When he taught me, he could spend half an hour on the position of my wrist. My hand would be shaking, and he'd still ask me to do it again."
"What did you do?"
"Told him it was easy to give advice from an armchair in a portrait."
"Did that help?"
"He asked me to rest first. Then do it again."
I gave a short laugh.
That sounded like Frederick.
Richard took in the way I was sprawled in the chair and, for once, didn't suggest chess.
"At least you know what to work on?"
"Unfortunately."
"That's something."
I closed my eyes.
The most irritating part was that he was right.
On Sunday morning, the first attempt ended with a hit to my shoulder.
I saw an exposed target on the right, turned, and cast. The projectile from the other side arrived before I could return to defence.
It wasn't a hard blow, but it hurt.
The mechanisms stopped.
I looked at Frederick.
He said nothing.
"I know."
"Tell me."
"I wanted to hit it before it disappeared."
"And stopped watching the other side."
I rubbed my shoulder.
"Yes."
On the next attempt, I did the opposite. I checked one launcher, then the other, adjusted my position—and by the time I aimed, the target had vanished behind the pillar.
Frederick didn't comment immediately.
Only after several more attempts did he stop the exercise.
"Now you're waiting for certainty you won't get."
I accepted a glass of water from Anunu.
"Before, I was attacking too quickly."
"And now you're trying to check everything before every spell."
"I won't have time for that in a real duel."
"That's why we practise. For now, you're consciously doing things you should eventually notice without having to stop."
I leaned against the wall.
"Like a wand movement?"
"Similar. At first, you paid attention to every part of it. With simple spells, you no longer need to."
I turned the glass in my hand.
"Can we slow the devices down?"
Frederick studied me more closely.
"Yes."
"I want to try without chasing every target."
Anunu was already waiting by the controls.
When I returned to the centre, the targets moved more slowly.
That didn't mean I suddenly became good at it. I still looked in one direction for too long or took an unnecessary step. But I had a moment to notice the mistake before the next problem pushed it out of my mind.
On one attempt, I let the target behind the pillar go and hit another that appeared closer.
Only afterwards did I realise I hadn't needed to escape from the wall.
I'd never reached it.
That afternoon, Frederick had a small rectangle marked out on the floor.
"No attacking this time. Stay inside and avoid being hit. You may use a shield."
I looked at the lines.
"What if I have to step out?"
"Then step out. I don't want you taking a hit just to pass the exercise. Afterwards, we'll see whether it was necessary."
That sounded fair.
The first attempts ended quickly.
Once, I backed over the boundary. Another time, I dodged much further than I needed to, leaving myself right beside the line when the next projectile came.
When the devices stopped, I looked at where I'd started.
"A shorter step would have been enough."
Frederick nodded.
I returned to the centre.
I tried to make smaller movements, but at first that mostly meant freezing as I waited for the shot. One projectile caught me a glancing blow in the side before I raised a shield.
Anunu slowed the sequence.
We tried again.
This time, the first projectile missed after a slight shift of my shoulder. I stopped the second with a spell. For the third, I moved one foot instead of leaping aside.
The next came from the right.
I turned sideways.
It passed me.
"Stop."
I was still inside the marked area.
I looked down to make sure.
Frederick smiled faintly.
"There."
"Again?"
"Once. Then a break."
The second attempt wasn't as good. I stepped over the line to avoid the last projectile, but this time I knew exactly when I'd run out of room.
That counted for something too.
By the end of the day, I was completing the short sequence more often than I failed it.
I lowered my wand and let out a breath.
"Better?"
"Much."
"I'm beginning to suspect you really are trying to teach me something."
Frederick raised his eyebrows.
"Really? I'd hoped you might work that out a little sooner."
On Monday, I wrote Dumbledore another note confirming that I was still at home.
This time, I left out the Ministry.
As I put down my quill, Anunu brought a reply from Draco.
He thanked me for the book. Apparently, the moving illustrations were useful, although he already knew some of the techniques.
Of course.
He also wrote that Lucius considered duelling a valuable skill, provided it was practised under proper supervision.
I wondered whether Draco had mentioned Mara.
Probably not.
At the end, he'd added:
Since you're doing so much practising at that estate of yours, I expect more than an excuse about not having time for a duel when we get back.
I reached for fresh parchment.
Draco,
Frederick has spent the last two days explaining how many things I do wrong. If it makes you feel any better, apparently I still have plenty to learn.
I'll make time for a duel.
Try to read the book first.
Oliver
I read the reply and folded it with satisfaction.
That day, we combined the exercises.
The targets moved more slowly than they had on the first morning, but the launchers still demanded attention. I could no longer concentrate entirely on hitting things or entirely on dodging them.
I missed the first good opening because I spent too long deciding whether it was good.
I took the second.
At the third, I raised a shield instead of trying to force another attack.
I didn't hit every target.
But when the attempt ended, I wasn't standing against the wall with half the room out of sight.
Frederick asked me to repeat it. We changed the position of one launcher, and I immediately discovered how used I'd become to the old arrangement.
"Don't memorise the sequence," he reminded me.
"Easy to say."
"That's why Anunu keeps changing it."
The elf at the controls looked very pleased with his contribution.
After the final set, we returned to the study and my notes.
Frederick asked me to look at the sketch of the duel with Marsh again.
This time, I didn't start with the spells.
I marked my retreat, the wall, and the point where my opponent had regained room to move.
"I gave him too much space here."
"Possibly."
"You still won't say definitely?"
"I didn't see the fight."
I smiled to myself.
At least he stuck to that rule.
"But I'll watch for it next time."
"That's the idea."
I put down my quill.
"So I'm not supposed to stop retreating. I'm supposed to stop doing it the same way every time."
"And stop assuming every opening you notice calls for an immediate attack."
"Sometimes there's a better one."
"Sometimes there isn't one at all. You need to be able to accept that too."
I studied the notes.
Before, I'd mostly recorded what hit and what missed. Now I was adding why I'd ended up in the position I was casting from in the first place.
I couldn't improve that fight.
The next one, I could.
"Do you intend to keep competing at the club?" Frederick asked.
"Of course."
He nodded.
"Good. Here, we can take a mistake apart. There, you'll find out whether you can spot it against someone who won't wait for you to fix your footing."
That sounded encouraging, actually.
I wanted to see whether anything had changed.
Frederick studied my additions for a while.
"Good work, Oliver."
I looked up.
"Today?"
"Over these three days."
I smiled before I could hide it.
"You could have said so earlier."
"You were still standing against the wall then."
That evening, I returned to the drawing room.
Anunu sat on the rug with his cookbook. Evelyn was talking to Roland, and Richard was waiting by the chessboard.
He looked at me.
"Still have the energy for something that doesn't involve running?"
"That depends. Are you going to make me justify every move?"
"You're usually the one asking why you lost."
I pulled up a chair.
Hogwarts gave me opponents. Here, I had someone who could stop an exercise and show me what I'd actually done.
I was beginning to appreciate both.
Anunu helped set up the pieces. Frederick joined us after the opening moves.
"No hints," Richard warned him.
"I haven't said anything yet."
My grandfather looked at him, then returned to the board.
For a few minutes, the game went quietly.
Then I noticed a chance to take his knight.
I reached for my piece.
And stopped.
Richard had left that opportunity open too easily.
I looked at his bishop, then his rook. I followed the exchange again, this time one move further.
Ah.
The knight wasn't free.
I drew back my hand and moved a pawn to protect my own position.
Richard studied the board.
Then me.
"Hmm."
A quiet snort came from the next portrait.
My grandfather turned.
"Did you tell him something?"
"Not a word."
Richard returned to the board.
I didn't know whether I would win. There was still plenty of time to make enough mistakes that he wouldn't even have to try very hard.
But I'd avoided that trap myself.
Frederick settled comfortably into his chair.
He looked very pleased.
I was beginning to suspect the targets would be moving faster tomorrow.