Chapter 48: Flashback 23

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December 2002

The next time Hermione arrived at the shack, Draco appeared wearing only trousers and a shirt. She stopped and stared in surprise.

He quirked an eyebrow and looked down at himself. "I didn't fancy getting you tangled in my robes," he said with a suggestive drawl.

He stared at her for a moment with narrowed eyes before gesturing her forward.

"Given that you aren't necessarily training for skirmishes, we need to expand your combat abilities," he began in a clipped voice. "Vampires, hags, or harpies won't have wands, but they're experienced when it comes to attacking Wizarding folk. They go for close attacks that are difficult to fight off. Most wizards study defense against them assuming distance, but a smart hag will get you within arm's reach as quickly as possible. They know combat spells are difficult to perform close range. Werewolves may have wands, but most that run in packs prefer physical combat. You're—small." Hermione snorted, and Draco glared at her mildly. "You're going to be at a disadvantage in any fight. You need to defend yourself creatively."

"Alright." Hermione gave a sharp nod.

Draco's eyes glittered, and he loomed over her. "Now, suppose I'm a vampire. I'd be targeting the side of your neck. You don't have a dueling partner to cover for you. While you're fighting off a gytrash, I've closed in." He stepped closer until their bodies were touching. "What would you do now?"

Hermione whipped her wand upward, but Draco was too close for her to perform the wand motion for most defensive spells. Before she could back away and cast, his hand shot out and struck her wrist sharply. Her wand flew from her fingers and slid across the floor. She turned to dive after it, but Draco's hand closed around her wrist, and he jerked her back.

"Wandless too. Your move, Granger." He started leaning down toward her throat as though he intended to bite it.

Her left hand shot up to shove him away, but his other hand closed around her left wrist. She tried to wrench her arms free, but his grip was relentless.

"A word of advice," Draco said conversationally as she continued to try to tear herself free. "Don't leave your wrists open. Once I have you by the wrist, I have a considerable advantage; this a much easier hold for me to maintain than for you to escape from. The same goes for your feet. Be careful kicking above the knee. If you get grabbed by your ankle, you'll be on the ground in seconds. Stomping or kneeing is much better than kicking. Stomping utilises your weight. Stomp hard and go for the feet, ankles, or the side of the knees. Disabling your opponent is the key. A knee to the groin works on everything: wizards, vampires, werewolves—even hags hate it."

Hermione tried to knee Draco, but he used his hold on her wrists to twist her away and easily sidestepped her leg.

"See, once your arms are trapped, your options are limited, and mine are nearly endless depending on what I want to do to you next."

His lecturing was getting annoying. Hermione stomped on his foot and kicked him in the shins. He hissed faintly.

"Better. But if I were a vampire, you'd be drained by now. You clearly lack aptitude for fighting dirty."

He released her abruptly, and Hermione tore herself away and faced him. He stared at her seriously.

"Granger, if you are attacked, you will be outnumbered. Even if you aren't outnumbered, physically speaking, you will never be as strong as most Dark creatures naturally are. They will do whatever it takes to kill you. The fight will be stacked against you in every possible regard. Do anything you can to get away."

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