Harry jogged around the vast time room, just as he had every morning for the past two and a half months—a period he could only describe as his personal hell.
Filmore had kept his word.
He pushed Harry to the absolute limit of human endurance, often leaving the teen vomiting or unconscious from the brutal physical demands.
Although only ten weeks had passed in the outside world, Harry had effectively lived fifteen weeks inside the accelerated time room.
Twelve hours a day, every single day, he was drilled in every aspect of magic that could make him the most formidable wizard possible.
Even after leaving the time room, the day was far from over.
Croaker insisted on additional private study and gave him detailed lessons on life in 1976, ensuring Harry could blend in seamlessly and avoid suspicion.
Much to Harry’s dismay, he was also forced to continue Occlumency training.
At least Filmore’s lessons were far more effective—and less unpleasant—than Snape’s had ever been.
Harry had become competent in the art, though he knew he would never be a true master.
His days began the same way every morning: Filmore waking him with a barrage of stinging hexes to get him moving.
Then came the relentless running and exercises until he collapsed, only then earning the right to breakfast.
After a brief recovery, magical training began in earnest.
He learned an arsenal of spells—charms, transfiguration, and curses—designed to give him every possible advantage in survival and victory.
Once theory study was complete, he spent several exhausting hours dueling members of Filmore’s team, whose identities he was never allowed to learn.
They were elite fighters, and Harry learned that the hard way.
For the first month, he was repeatedly beaten and cursed until he finally began to catch up.
Only his natural talent and sheer refusal to quit made it possible.
Both Filmore and Croaker had come to recognize this as they pushed him to his limits.
No matter how hard they drove him, the boy never broke.
They grew genuinely proud of his resilience.
By the end of the first month, the results were undeniable.
Harry had mastered Apparition with ease, absorbed every lesson, and constantly asked for more.
He possessed an insatiable hunger for knowledge and power that no amount of training could satisfy.
He had even retaken several OWL-level exams—Potions, Charms, Transfiguration, History of Magic, and Care of Magical Creatures—during the second month, dramatically improving his grades.
He earned Outstanding in nearly all of them, and an Outstanding Plus in Transfiguration, much to Croaker’s delight.
The two men had offered him the chance to improve Astronomy and Divination as well, but Harry flatly refused to waste time on them.
They had barely convinced him to retake History of Magic, so they wisely allowed him to drop the others.
Yes, the training had been brutal.
But once Harry adjusted to the punishing schedule, he didn’t just survive it—he thrived.
Flashback
Harry jolted awake as a stinging hex struck his thigh.
Filmore dragged him out of bed by his ankles.
“Move your arse, Potter! Run!” Filmore roared, firing another hex.
Harry yelped but immediately scrambled to his feet and began running, Filmore chasing him with a barrage of stinging curses all the way to the time room.
He entered the chamber panting. The source of this chapter is g.com.
Filmore followed, clearly unimpressed.
“You will spend as much time in here as necessary until you are competent, Potter. Understood?”
Harry nodded.
“I didn’t hear you,” Filmore growled.
“Yes, sir,” Harry replied through gritted teeth.
“Better.” Another stinging hex.
“Now drop and give me twenty.”
“Yes, sir!” Harry shouted, throwing himself to the floor.
Filmore watched approvingly as Harry completed the push-ups, then outlined the brutal daily schedule that would define the coming weeks.
Harry listened, already exhausted just hearing the description.
He knew it would be far harder than anything he had ever faced, but he was determined.
He had to be better.
He wanted it more than anything.
“We’ll begin the full schedule tomorrow,” Filmore said.
“First, we need to sort out that wand of yours and see what you’re truly capable of today.”
“Yes, sir,” Harry responded immediately, not wanting another hex.
Filmore grinned.
“You learn fast, Potter. You’ll need to.” He jerked his head.
“Follow me.”