Capítulo 6: Training
Once more, Harry found himself walking down the black-tiled corridors of the real Department of Mysteries. Doors and lanterns passed him by as Harry's gaze flickered to each number displayed on them.
Eventually coming to a stop, Harry looked at the door labelled number 77 and then looked down at the note he had been given. 'Guess this is it.' Pushing down the handle, Harry opened the door and stepped into the room to find it extremely spartan. A simple bed, cupboard and a bedside table with a lamp on it.
Moving towards the bed, Harry sat down on it.
It wasn't comfortable, there really wasn't much in the way of comfort and Harry doubted that was by accident. If Croakers dismissal of Harry's injuries were anything to go by, he'd wager that these beds were purposefully made as uncomfortable as possible. It'd really fit in with the way Croaker viewed Unspeakable Field Agents (UFAs).
Reaching down into the draw, he pulled out the the piece of parchment as well as the ink pot with the quill in it. He'd been told that these would be waiting for him to send a letter to those he needed to about his disappearance. Harry was thankful for that, it meant he could at least forewarn Andromeda about him not returning for weeks without raising any concern.
Would he have liked to do it in person? Yes he would have liked to do so, but could he? No, Croaker had made it clear that with the rising Werewolf threat in Europe, he'd at most have less than a month to be trained before being deployed. Considering all UFAs would normally have received at least half a years dedicated training, the fact he was getting less than a month showed just how precarious the situation was becoming.
As much as he would have liked to say goodbye to Andromeda and Teddy in person, he also wanted to make sure that they would be safe.
So, dipping his quill into the ink pot, Harry began writing out his letter.
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"Good morning, mister Potter." Croaker greeted, far too cheerful this early in the morning. Harry wasn't sure of the exact time, but it had taken him a great deal of time to finally fall asleep due to how uncomfortable the bed was. Then, just as it seemed he had fallen asleep, he had been rudely awoken by a siren-like sound.
And Croaker looked far too chipper for this.
"The first thing you'll be doing, is improving your physique." Croaker said as Harry stood across from him in a large chamber, various ancient weapons dangling from walls and pillars acting as support. Much like the rest of the Department of Mysteries, it was covered in black-tiles only lit by lanterns.
And besides the two of them, it was empty.
"Magic is a fickle thing." Croaker continued. "Just as likely to kill you as your enemies. But one way to improve your control over magic, is the state of your body. Your fitness is average, that will need to change. The fitter your physique, the more responsive your magic is. That is what you'll spend the next few hours working on and will be repeating at a similar every day."
"So what am I going to be doing exactly? A bunch of press-ups, sit-ups and running?"
Croaker smirked. "Actually, yes." This made Harry pause. "It's a good start, but you'll also be doing more than just that though. I believe, fifty of the first two and why not, let's do fifty laps of this entire chamber while where at it. Should be a good warmup for you."
Sighing, Harry shook his arms and went down onto his hands and feet. "One. Two. Three..." each time he lowered down, his nose almost touching the ground and then pushed back up till his arms were fully extended.
All the while Croaker watched on.
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"Now that you looked warmed up, let's start with our next bit of today's training." Breathing heavily, Harry braced his hands on his knees, sweat coating his body. His fitness training had ended merely ten minutes ago and his body was thoroughly exhausted.
After what he considered the initial 'warmup,' Harry had been put through the ringer. Somehow Croaker had numerous muggle workout machines and had Harry work on them all and his muscles were burning and felt like lead. Yet he'd only been given a short rest and a small bite to eat, most of it consisting of potions now here they were.
"And...what's that?" Harry asked through heavy breaths, slowly standing upright.
"Simple question first." Croaker told him. "What are you without your wand."
"Is that a trick question?" Harry raised one brown in questioning.
"No."
Harry paused, unsure how to answer at first. "Erm, I dunno, wandless?"
Croaker chuckled at his answer." True, but the word I was looking for was useless. And that's the truth. Every wizard and witch is useless without their wand. A Field Agent cannot afford to fall into the same trap that all others do." That's when a door opened an in stepped an older man, even more so than Croaker. "This is Adrian, a former Field Agent and martial arts trainer of the UFAD."
"Hello." Harry greeted.
"..."
"He's a mute." Croaker cut in. "Had his tongue ripped out by an Inferius back 1942. But he was the best hand-to-hand combatant the UFAD ever produced and after his injuries became the martial arts for all future Field Agents. He'll be yours."
Harry looked to the man and studied him a little closer. He was old, that much was clear and there were numerous scars littering his hands and face showing just how much violence he had gone through. But there was also clear signs of muscle, he didn't look he'd be much of a threat, but neither did Croaker and look how that fight turned out?
"So, I'll be sparring him?"
Croaker shook his head. "No, the time in which Adrian could spar has long since passed, his physical body has reached its limits and while he looks like he could put up a fight, it's extremely dangerous for him to do so. Instead he'll be teaching you the basics of martial arts, how to throw a punch, how to kick, how to grapple and other aspects of hand-to-hand combat. The rest you'll have to learn in actual life and death fights, lucky you."
"Lucky me." Harry snarked.
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Walking down the corridor, a bruised and sore Harry followed after Croaker with a slight limp to his step. It wasn't even twelve in the afternoon and already Harry was practically dead on his feet. Getting up at three in the morning after barely an hour or two of sleep had been difficult in of itself. Then there had three hours of fitness training which had been exhausting and this was then followed by five hours of martial arts training.
Whenever he'd made a mistake, Adrian had used his walking stick to display his displeasure at his failings. The numerous bruises littering Harry's body were a testament to how much he needed to improve on.
All this had been done with only a minimal amount of food and sleep with only potions to keep him going. Harry would wager that this was all part of the training as well. Just to drive him to the brink of complete physical and mental exhaustion, it wouldn't surprise him if that was the case.
As they continued to walk, Harry didn't ask where they were going. Much like Croaker had told him, he was trying to figure stuff out for himself rather than relying on others to tell him things.
"Here we are, you're home for the next six hours." He opened the door they had stopped outside of and inside was a large room filled filled with rows upon rows of bookshelves, each fully stocked with their namesake. The layout reminded him of the Hall of Prophecy before he and his friends came along and practically destroyed it.
Leading him to a desk sat in the middle of the room, Croaker summoned a book called, the Secrets of the Dark Arts. "You'll be spending the first two hours hours studying upon the Dark Arts, I don't want you to simply learn how they work, I want you to learn how to use them. The best way to combat something, is to master it first."
Harry frowned, not liking the sound of it, but didn't say anything, just looking at the book placed in front of him.
"Don't look so down, mister Potter, Dark Magic does not leave a stain upon your core as is so commonly believed nor does it change the way you act. All it does is force you to rely on your darkest urges, desires and emotions, it's why so many people refuse to use it. Magic is magic, don't let prejudices stop you from using a weapon that could save thousands of lives." Croaker explained.
'Riddle said something similar.' Harry thought, not saying it aloud, but the last bit reminded him eerily of what Riddle had told him.
"After you've done that, you're to read upon magical creatures and detail their strengths, weaknesses and plans to capture and kill them." With that said, Croaker turned on his heel and left, leaving Harry to hesitantly to turn the page of the book laid out in front of him.
PENSAMENTOS DOS CRIADORES 
Carrots123
Carrots123 So just a look at how brutal UFA training can be, especially considering Harry is purposefully being made to do it on minimal sleep and also little food. Anyway, gonna skip over the rest of Harry's training and jump ahead to three weeks later. Hope you enjoyed and if you did, have any ideas or questions then please let me know.
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