Adamohov0 thank you for the review, no I haven't really thought about pairings yet but Harry and Wanda is a good potential choice.

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So for days Harry worked and worked not on any magical creation nor item but it was his heart he worked on. He worked on letting go as much as he possibly could.

It was not working.

His face smashed back into the ground with a wet thud. He growled and tried to stand once more with the same success as the last time.

Another wet crash was heard as he went face first into the ground once more. He was down on his stomach and felt tears roll down his face. He did his best to wipe the forming signs of weakness away but couldn't.

He knew he couldn't, no he wouldn't. He wouldn't let go of the death of his friends and family! He watched Ron and Hermione tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange, he watched the rest of the Weasleys burn to death in their childhood home.

He watched his teacher, his mentor Dumbledore, killed by a man he trusted. He watched Hagrid beat to death by his own imperiused brother.

He watched his Godfather fall into the veil of death and never return, he watched Remus Lupin get torn apart by werewolves.

He avenged all of them, except for two.

He remembered being the person Death Eaters feared. He remembered being the person that would kill Giants, werewolves and vampires with ease. He remembered walking through battles with no fear.

Dementors stopped approaching him as he became their fear. Then, he was truly The Dark Lord's Equal, he could stare the man in the eyes and not flinch and had multiple duels that caused city's to collapse and the sky to shake.

That changed after Ron and Hermione were killed, unlike most other deaths where he was too late to react or he could have potentially done something, anything.

This was different; they were captured by Bellatrix who laid a trap. He tried to rescue them only to get trapped in a pair of wards that to this day he could not figure out what they were.

He watched them being tortured for hours. For hours he watched his best friends tortured, they held onto one another as they screamed and begged for death.

Kingley Shacklebolt dragged him out of that trap kicking and screaming and ever since that day Harry had not been able to cast a single spell with his wand.

Harry felt more tears stain his bloody broken face and cursed. He could feel his magic running through his body and held onto the feeling of his magic and slowly strained and he pushed his body up.

His burning knees were first, still he pushed past the pain and eventually got his bloody hands off the ground.

Slowly but surely he stood and when he did stand he took a step, he felt his knees buckle but pushed forward. He could feel the muscles in his neck straining just trying to keep his head above his shoulders.

But slowly and surely he started to walk, the veil the old man walked through wasn't even 20 feet away yet it felt like each single step alone was worth more than a hundred thousand normal ones.

But eventually he was within 5 feet of the veil and had several times smashed each of his knees into the ground. He had to stand again and again, but he won't give in to just laying down.

He won't forget what happened to his friends, he will never forget and he won't hide away from the truth anymore.

He needs to stand up again.

He is very sure that he had permanently injured some part of his body but he would not accept laying down for the rest of his life!

He will kill the death eaters, he will kill Bellatrix and he will spit on Voldemort's warm corpse.

And as he stepped forwards through the veil once more. The old walked through the veil and stopped feet away from him.

He seemed slightly shocked but quickly recomposed himself "Y-You are walking with all that weight" he said with a slight shake in his voice.

"You must drop, it's not healthy having that much on your shoulders" he commanded gently but Harry has had enough.

"I will not let go!" He half shouted, "I will not let this go until those that did this are dead at my feet" he was panting heavily as the weight kept pressing down on him.

He took another step forward.

The old man took half a step back "Who did wha-"

"Lord Voldemort did this! And I shall not rest until he is gone!" He took another step forward.

"Now I want to be better than a good man." the older man's eyes widened in slight hope "But I will not be better until I kill that man" he took another step forward, he and the old man are now only two feet apart.

Harry's fierce green eyes stared into the old man's bright gold ones and didn't break the stare until the man slightly nodded. "We all heal in different ways" he took a deep breath "I shall help you towards your goal".

He understood the boy, like he said he went through something similar. And he knows not everyone heals the same, he will guide the boy to be stronger for that is how he will be saved from himself.

Harry stopped before he was kicked in the stomach, he was sent back into the centre of the veil. Before he could speak, the old man did.

"You will stay here for another 30 days" The old man said as he placed his hand against the veil and wandlessly cast a small reflective spell against it.

"And you will cast magic against this veil for those 30 days, as you have realised by now this room magically sustains your need for sustenance, sleep and waste." Harry had noticed that 2 days in when he started to daydream about food but wasn't hungry. "So therefore you will do this for 24 hours a day until your let out"

And just as Harry was about to speak up about him not having a wand the old man spoke once more "You will be casting these spells wandlessly" Harry's eyes widened "You will also only use spells affected by gravity" the old man left before Harry could speak and left him in a stupor.

Harry was great at wandless magic but being great at wandless magic only really meant he could do the easier spells with a lack of real power.

But quickly he shook out of the stupor and tried to use one of the simplest spells he knew. "Glintstome" he spoke the incantation aloud so he would have some extra power.

The bright blue pebble in front of his palm shot towards the veil. Within less than a second due to the gravity it dropped to the floor with a crash and dispelled.

He was having minimal strain standing but after seeing his spell drop to the floor he himself dropped to one knee. He cursed and slowly stood back to his feet with a creak.

He outstretched his palm once and shot another Glintstome pebble towards the veil and predictably it fell towards the floor before even travelling a foot. He cursed and added more power and tried again.

And the days passed by with Harry slowly but surely building up more and more power, he felt his magic slowly deplete but due to it being a simple spell it barely touched his reserves.

Him being able to add more power to the spell wasn't just him jamming more and more magic into the spell, too much magic would make the spell unstable and more deadly to himself than any enemy.

What Harry was doing was consistently training his wandless magic under hellish training conditions. His efficiency was rapidly improving and more importantly his magic potency was drastically increasing.

You couldn't just shove more magic into a spell and want it to work, there was a set limit. But potency doesn't increase his reserves, it increases the potential power of every single ounce. So whereas he could only shove say 3 ounces into this spell and it only went a foot, now he could shove 3 ounces and it goes 5 feet.

Putting it simply is that now his wandless magic is more powerful than your average wizard's wand magic. Not that the average wizard was particularly combat inclined, it was still extremely impressive.

Harry repeated this again and again until he had a breakthrough. 'Glintstome' he non verbally cast, non verbally while less powerful was also going to help his control with magic.

He now got his spell to just nearly hit the veil, he knew that any cast now and he would hit it. 'Glintstome' this time the spell hit the wall and bounced off!

Harry watched as the spell hit the wall and then bounced back to then hit the floor. 'So the spells bounce! When I get powerful enough I'm going to have to get out of the way' . The idea of his spells getting powerful enough so that they would bounce around the room was intoxicating to the wizard.

So for days he casted and slowly but surely his spell bounced off the wall and got closer to him by the minute. It was now close enough that he had to move his foot back so the spell wouldn't hit him.

Standing still was now becoming easier but he couldn't for the life of him move without feeling like he was tearing his knees apart. But he just continued to cast until one day he suddenly had to move to the right every time he casted to avoid being hit by his own spell.

Everytime he moved he felt his body want to collapse and drop to the floor in defeat but he didn't allow it. If he fell, he lost and if he lost then Voldemort would win, and if Voldemort won then his friends' deaths would be for nothing.

So he cast and then dodged his own spell again and again, slowly dodging became less like throwing himself to the side desperately and more like taking a simple painful step to his left or right.

And for days longer he would do this until one day. He was casting as usual, every dodge as hard as the last. While every time he dodged it seemingly became easier to move it wasn't helping because every time he cast the spell just got faster.

But his casting and movement became more refined and as he cast his spell he suddenly crashed to the floor in a panting heap. He slowly stood up and rubbed the centre of his back, he turned around only to see nothing.

He swore he was hit by a spell but stood and cast as usual, again he was knocked to the floor and he slowly stood with a small suspicion forming in his mind.

He cast, dodged and then turned around only to get hit in the stomach by his own spell. So for days more he refined his new routine of cast, dodge and dodge.

As every day passed it seemed he needed to add another dodge to the routine soon it was like he was dancing he would cast, dodge, dodge then send out another cast while still dodging other casts.

His movement no longer even seemed affected by the heavy weight as he danced around a dozen of the powerful reflective spells.

By day 30 Harry had dozens of spells all trying to hit him that he was moving around as if he was water. His eyes were alert and focused and they tracked every spell in his vision. His feet were swift as they guided the rest of his body around the extremely fast spells that would reflect off the viel almost a dozen times before they would crash to the floor.

That was the sight the old man walked into, with amazement he observed the young man walk towards him while taking the occasional two second pause to let spells pass him.

"Am I ready now old man?" he said with a slightly cocky smile on his face.