For Harry, this special training was an upgraded version of Moody's extra lessons: more magic to learn, stricter demands, and harsher mock battles. Harry was "killed" almost every time.
Of course, it was even more exhausting.
Before long, Harry was worn out every day. But the Basilisk incident had changed him. No matter how tired he was, he gritted his teeth and kept going.
While Harry trained, Dumbledore was teaching another student elsewhere.
That night, Dumbledore handed Harry a potion. "Get some rest. We'll continue tomorrow. You're doing better and better."
Harry was drenched in sweat and breathing hard. The mock battle had left him spent. Not one of his spells had hit Professor Dumbledore; he had put everything into dodging and had still been taken down in just a few moves.
"Thank you, Professor." Harry gulped down the potion, sank into the bathtub, and watched Dumbledore leave.
Exhaustion and loneliness closed in on Harry. He was only thirteen, after all. Living alone in a Tower where no one came to see him, he was bound to grow lonely. He found himself missing his friends, and Mr. Strange's endless chatter from inside his Glasses.
What he didn't know was that he had been placed there for his own protection. Harry still knew nothing of his connection to Voldemort. Dumbledore had carefully prepared his room to block that connection.
It was, in effect, an enormous Occlumency spell. Dumbledore had known there was a special connection between Voldemort and Harry from the moment he saw Harry's scar, and there were many things he had to guard against. That was also why Dumbledore kept so much from Harry.
"Professor." In the Headmaster's Office, the silver-eyed boy had been quietly pondering something. He greeted Dumbledore as he came in.
"Let's pick up where