Third Person POV
Harry woke up at 5 AM the next morning, determined to complete his physical training quest before 9 AM. After brushing his teeth and taking a bath, Harry gets in his oversized tracksuit — a reminder that he'd have to buy new clothes soon. 'I need to shop for clothes as soon as possible', he thought, before discarding the idea. Any such outing might alert Dumbledore's spies, and that was the last thing he needed.
His thoughts on Dumbledore were complicated — a tangled mess of Harry's own experiences and Tom's lingering influence. He decided it would be best to take a wait-and-watch approach, at least for now.
Setting those thoughts aside, Harry focused on his workout, determined to complete the task. After 3 hours of physical exercise, he was too exhausted to even prepare his breakfast. 'Oh my god, I've been acting so stupid. I could just ask Dobby to help me with housework — that would make staying with the Dursleys so much easier.'
"Dobby" he called out into the empty room, a second later a small creature — about 3 and a half feet, with tennis-ball-like green eyes, pencil like long nose and pointed bat like ears popped into the room. "Harry Potter called Dobby, what can Dobby do for Harry Potter?" asked the elf.
"Dobby, would you like to work for me? Just help me out around the house," Harry asked a little awkwardly.
"Harry Potter wants Dobby to work for him? DOBBY WOULD LOVE TO WORK FOR HARRY POTTER "the elf cheered, bouncing in place.
Harry smiled. "I'd feel better if you accepted some payment," he began, but Dobby's eyes widened in horror, shaking his head vehemently.
"No, Harry Potter! Dobby is a free elf, but Dobby wants to serve Harry Potter because Harry Potter is the greatest wizard Dobby has ever known!" The elf's eyes shone with fierce devotion.
Harry sighed, realizing he couldn't change Dobby's mind. "Alright, Dobby," he relented. "If that's what you want, I'd be happy to have you help me out. Thank you."
"Dobby is honored, Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby squeaked, bowing low.
After confirming Dobby's help, Harry asked him to prepare breakfast, warning him not to use any magic that could be traced by the Ministry inside the house.
After breakfast, Harry asked Dobby to clean the house and his clothes.
Once his room was cleaned, Harry started to ponder on how to start with wandless magic as there are no books which can help him with it. He remembered that Tom could use wandless magic as a kid, but he could not recall how. 'Well, let's start with meditation.' He sat cross-legged, closed his eyes, and focused entirely on himself.
He meditated for an hour and a half after which the frustration set in. This time he tried to use the pillars of magic that Professor Flitwick explained in the first year: Intent, imagination, willpower, and magical power. He concentrated on the book lying on his table and wills it to levitate. Nothing happened.
He tried again and again, getting more frustrated with each failure. Then, in a surge of annoyance, he tried one more time — and the book floated. Harry's eyes widened in shock. Harry jumps in joy and pumps his fist in the air. Now he realizes what he had been missing in his past trials. ' Emotions! Of Course, How could I forget emotions play a large part in magic? Let's try again.'
--Wandless Magic (Novice) skill raised by 1 Level--
--Wandless Magic (Novice): 0 -> 1 --
After 2 hours of trial and error, Harry finally managed to succeed and raise his skill to level 1.
'But it's weird how I was able to get hold of wandless magic so quickly I at least thought it would take a day or two. Previous Harry aside from being talented in DADA was not a prodigy so how? Of course, while Harry may not be a prodigy Tom Riddle was, which explains how I was able to get the hang of it so easily.'
Finishing up with wandless magic, Harry headed downstairs for lunch. He felt a strange sense of loneliness settling over him as he sat at the kitchen table, a hollowness in his chest that he hadn't noticed until now. He poked at his meal, his mind turning over everything that had happened — dying, waking up in this familiar yet unfamiliar world, the memories of his past life, and the fragments of Tom's influence.
He thought about his family — his mother's warm smile, his father's steady presence, the playful bickering with his siblings, and the inside jokes with his friends. Those memories were like snapshots, vivid but so far away, almost like they'd happened to someone else.
It hit him how easily he'd been pushing those feelings aside. He'd been so focused on getting settled, on the training, the plans, the dangers that might come — he hadn't given himself a chance to feel the loss. He didn't need to cry, though; it wasn't about tears. It was about acknowledging the hole they'd left behind, the ache he couldn't fill just by training or planning.
A line from his dad came to mind — something he'd read to him one night: Don't be ashamed to grieve; it's part of healing. Tears are only water, and the world needs water to grow. But there has to be sunlight too. A wounded heart will heal in time, and when it does, the memories of those we've lost will stay with us to comfort us.
Harry took a slow breath, letting the weight of that sink in. He didn't know exactly how to move forward yet, but he knew he owed it to his family — and himself — to try.
'Give me strength, guys', he thought. 'Wherever you are, I'll always carry you with me.'