The next day, the three of them gathered once again inside Harry's newly renovated bedroom.
Harry and Hermione arrived looking unusually excited.
After yesterday's conversation, both of them secretly assumed Lucas would finally begin teaching powerful combat spells.
Perhaps advanced curses.
Or hidden Dark Arts.
Or at the very least, dramatic magical duelling techniques.
Instead—
Lucas calmly placed a small table in the middle of the room and gestured for them to sit down around it.
Harry blinked.
Hermione looked confused.
Lucas rested his wand casually against the table.
"If you want to learn how to fight," he said calmly, "the first thing you need to learn is how to survive being hurt."
Then he glanced meaningfully at their skinny eleven-year-old bodies.
"Unfortunately, with your current physiques, actual combat training would probably kill you."
Harry immediately looked slightly offended.
"So today," Lucas continued smoothly, "I'm teaching you healing magic instead."
Harry and Hermione exchanged glances.
Neither objected.
After spending nearly a month together, their trust in Lucas had already become extremely deep.
"The incantation is simple," Lucas explained. "You've already seen me use it before."
He raised his wand slightly.
"Reparo."
Naturally, Lucas intentionally reused the Mending Charm as his modified healing technique shortcut rather than introducing proper healing spells immediately.
Close enough.
After that, he spent a while correcting their wand movements and pronunciation repeatedly.
Hermione mastered the motions quickly as expected.
Harry struggled considerably more.
Eventually, after nearly half an hour, Lucas finally nodded.
"Good enough."
Then he smiled faintly.
"Time for practical training."
Harry looked around curiously.
Hermione did too.
Neither of them understood what exactly they would practise healing on.
Then—
Lucas calmly extended his left arm onto the table.
Without hesitation, he raised his wand and slashed twice across his own forearm.
Two deep cuts instantly tore open across his skin.
Blood exploded across the table.
Hermione screamed.
"Lucas!"
She shot to her feet instantly while desperately searching around the room for cloth or bandages.
Harry looked equally horrified and nearly sprinted towards the door.
"We need Aunt Petunia—"
"Sit down."
Lucas's voice suddenly turned cold and sharp.
Both of them froze immediately.
"Have you forgotten?" Lucas asked calmly. "You're wizards."
Blood continued dripping steadily from his arm onto the floor.
"Use the spell I just taught you."
Then he pushed his injured arm forwards across the table.
"Two wounds," he said evenly. "One each."
Harry and Hermione stared at him in horror.
Lucas's expression remained completely calm.
"If you don't heal these injuries quickly enough," he continued casually, "I might actually bleed to death."
The room fell silent.
"Whether I die here today," Lucas finished quietly, "depends entirely on the two of you."
Blood spread rapidly across the tabletop.
Harry and Hermione both looked pale.
But eventually, they gritted their teeth and sat back down.
Their hands shook badly while raising their wands.
"R-Reparo!"
Nothing happened.
"Reparo!"
A faint glow appeared briefly.
After several failed attempts, the wounds finally began closing slowly beneath their spells.
Yet even after multiple casts, two shallow scars still remained on Lucas's arm.
Lucas glanced down at them.
Then he shook his head.
"Not good enough."
Before either of them could react—
Lucas tore the half-healed wounds back open again.
Fresh blood instantly poured out.
Hermione nearly burst into tears.
"Again."
His tone remained mercilessly calm.
Hermione's eyes turned red immediately, but she forced herself to continue casting the spell.
"Don't cry."
Lucas's voice cut through the room sharply.
"Tears blur your vision."
Hermione stiffened.
"In real combat, hesitation and panic get people killed."
His gaze remained cold.
"Especially healers."
Hermione bit her lip hard enough to nearly draw blood.
Then she forced herself to continue.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Lucas repeatedly reopened the wounds while forcing them to heal him over and over without pause.
Slowly, visibly—
Their control improved.
Eventually, Harry and Hermione managed to close the injuries perfectly without leaving scars behind.
Lucas finally nodded slightly.
"Better."
Then he calmly raised his wand again.
This time—
Harry grabbed his wrist.
Lucas looked surprised.
Harry exchanged a glance with Hermione.
Then without warning, Harry clenched his teeth and used the Severing Charm on his own arm.
Blood instantly flowed down his sleeve.
Hermione gasped painfully at the sight.
Yet she still remembered Lucas's earlier warning.
No tears.
Harry himself nearly cried out from pain.
Only now did he truly realise something terrifying—
Lucas genuinely endured this repeatedly without changing expression.
How horrifying must his pain tolerance be?
After Harry, Hermione reluctantly cut her own arm too.
Though her wound remained shallower than Lucas's.
The training continued.
Time gradually blurred together.
The wounds healed.
Then reopened.
Then healed again.
Their faces slowly became pale from blood loss and exhaustion.
Eventually, even Harry couldn't remember how many healing spells they cast anymore.
Finally, Lucas lowered his wand.
"That's enough for today."
His voice softened considerably for the first time.
Then he handed each of them a potion bottle.
Snape's potions.
Originally delivered through Dumbledore.
The effect proved immediate.
Warmth spread rapidly through Harry and Hermione's bodies while the dizziness from blood loss faded away.
If Petunia entered the room right now, she probably would've thought a murder happened.
Blood covered nearly everything.
The floor.
The table.
Their clothes.
Though most of it belonged to Lucas.
Harry and Hermione simply weren't ruthless enough yet to cut themselves as deeply as he did.
Internally, Lucas nodded with satisfaction.
Naturally, today's true purpose was never teaching healing magic.
Healing spells themselves weren't difficult.
There was absolutely no need for this much repetition.
His real goal—
Was psychological conditioning.
Because only people capable of being ruthless towards themselves could eventually become ruthless towards enemies.
Harry and Hermione still lacked that mentality completely.
But today planted another important seed.
Lucas leaned back slightly.
"As I warned you yesterday," he said calmly, "my training methods are extremely harsh."
Then he gestured casually around the blood-soaked room.
"And this was only the introduction."
Harry thought silently about his parents.
Then about Voldemort.
Finally, he raised his head firmly.
"I can continue."
His green eyes burned with determination.
"Compared to the scars covering your body… today was nothing."
Hermione's eyes still looked red, but she nodded stubbornly too.
"I won't quit either."
Lucas shook his head helplessly.
"Well… don't blame me later."
Internally, however—
He felt ecstatic.
Excellent.
Very excellent.
"Scourgify."
Lucas casually cleaned all the blood from the floor and furniture with a wave of his wand.
Then he looked towards the two exhausted children.
"Same time tomorrow."
And from that day onwards—
The training truly began.
Almost every single day throughout the remainder of summer, Harry and Hermione trained alongside Lucas.
Spell practice.
Reaction drills.
Physical exercise.
Long-distance running.
Magical endurance training.
Mental conditioning.
Because unlike Lucas himself, ordinary wizards directly linked magical stamina to physical condition.
And honestly—
Lucas's training methods were horrifying.
Physically exhausting.
Mentally exhausting.
Sometimes emotionally exhausting too.
Yet despite the suffering, Harry and Hermione continued enduring everything stubbornly.
Time passed quickly.
The blazing days of August gradually disappeared.
Then before they fully realised it—
The end of the month arrived.
And finally—
Hogwarts awaited them.
....
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