Ron panted on the ground of the courtyard, "How the heck Ben!" Ron yelled frustrated.

"Again," I said without emotion for the twentieth time.

The boy struggled to his feet like a newborn fawn but held firm. He had a fire of determination in his eyes. Maybe it is his competitive spirit or maybe something else... Regardless Ron has a blaze within rare in one so young.

I watched as he assumed near-perfect form once more. A pleasant surprise that he could achieve such a form in less than a single hour of training. Talent is truly something to be envious of. If only I were so fortunate... Let's just say it took me much longer and had I not been eternal I'd never have succeeded.

Still, I am no master of the blade. I simply know the forms and techniques. My use of the sword is far too basic and stiff compared to the smooth and majestic flow that Griffindor's movements held.

A child just walking at the beginning of the path would see me as masterful, but a true swordsman would see through such deception. It will not be long before Ron has far surpassed me. As all could do with enough time.

"Haha!" Ron roared as he charged, giving away his intent to attack from the front. His outburst brought my attention back to him from my thoughts. Nieve, had he remained quiet he could have taken advantage of my distraction. I maintained my position and deflected his attack to the side with a parry. It looked like I simply angled my sword handle above my head with the blade facing down. His sword bounced off the flat of my blade assisted by a minuscule push from me timed to align with the rebound. This caused him to fall off balance and lean forward more into his strike and overextend. With one smooth motion, I patted him on the back with my weapon.

"Bloody-Bollucks!" Ron cursed, livid.

"You're doing great Ron," I assured him.

"Doesn't look like it," he groaned and grumbled.

"I'm far more familiar with the forms and their usage Ron. It's like playing chess for the first time against someone who's played for years. Give it time and one day it will be me that is one-sidedly beaten by you," I genuinely smiled. He really does remind me of Godric Griffindor. Memories of a time long gone momentarily emerge to the surface before clearing from my mind altogether.

Ron seemed to perk up," Alright, let's go again".

"No, we should take a break here. It's best not to push our bodies too far all at once. You don't climb a mountain in a single stride, but with many steps."

"Now that you mention it, I am famished. I could eat half a hog," Ron replied while rubbing his belly.

"Come on. It's almost time for lunch anyway. Let's head over there and reserve a seat for everyone," I suggested.

"I wonder where they went off to anyway," Ron mumbled aloud.

Hermione had complained," ugh, boys and their stick games" when we started training. She saw the chaos, but not the structured order behind it. There is a grace in swordplay and it's very much like a dance. I have skill in both because many a soul has requested a spar or dance before parting the mortal coil. It's funny that they always seem to think that it will be their last chance to do so but for them what comes next is unknown. Now that the time of such ball dances and swordplay are gone I have rarely been asked these days.

Draco did a match with Ron that resulted in him getting one-shot defeated. He got angry and said, "Figured you'd be good at such a ruffians sport Weasley!"

I reassured him that," it's okay Draco, swordsmanship just isn't your thing. There are other skills more suited to you that we don't excel in."

Draco left more dejected than angry.

Ron didn't take what Draco said to heart. He told me after Draco left," it's hard to hold his outbursts against him when you know what he's going through". Why is it that humans hide their pain from one another? When one understands the truth of a situation then there is almost always room for forgiveness.

I wasn't only training Ron in fencing as I had told him, but also European swordsmanship as well. Few battled through history with the sword as long as they did. I need Ron to gain skill with the sword so he can inherit what Godric left for his descendent. The great wizard left all his wealth to Hogwarts but wanted his successor to be from his own line.

We arrived at the dining hall and took our seats at an unoccupied table on the far left. Once the food started appearing we helped ourselves.

Ron and I were enjoying a large lamb chop when the rest of the gang arrived.

"Did you have fun playing with your toys?" Hermione mocked. By toys, she meant the wooden swords I'd crafted with the "Diffindo" charm.

"We made progress," I replied.

Hermione's nose scrunched seemingly in disdain. She clearly didn't agree with our use of time but made no further comment.

Neville was the last to arrive at lunch seemingly stressed from potions class. I'd saved Neville from quite a few near misses.

" I don't think I'm any good at being a wizard," Neville complained.

"Listen to me closely Neville. You first and foremost must always believe in yourself. Never let a fool like Snape put you down," I reassured him.

"But I'm terrible at casting spells, and potions class results in catastrophic failure," Neville complained.

"Neville, remember I told you that the potions class is structured improperly. First, let's start smaller like with Herbology. The understanding of the basic magical effect of magical herbs and how they interact with each other," I said, deciding on the next step of Neville's extracurricular education. Neville actually has the makings of a great alchemist, but Snape is too self-centered to see beyond the surface. That, and the fact that potions class is a joke, compared to what it once was.

I would make Neville a great wizard in his own right. I just need time and for him to have some faith in himself. The boy even showed some talent with the sword...Although, it was too little for him to reasonably achieve mastery in this lifetime. He would probably end up stunted at the adept level just like myself.

As for Hermione and Draco...