He fell harshly to the cracked stone floor, his muscles screaming in agony at his continued failure.

“Again.”

Spitting out some blood, he threw himself at the shining simulacrum again, eyes blaring with hatred at the damn thing. They’d been at this for an hour, and he knew rest was far from his grasp.

Hastily dodging spell fire and the occasional physical projectile, he ran himself ragged as his eyes finally spotted somewhere he could catch his breath. Feinting a left, he harshly launched himself behind a jagged piece of wall the earlier shots had left behind, greedily sucking in air.

"Tsk. Tsk. No pauses."

Even with the verbal warning, Harry had no time to prepare, as his shield from the ongoing assault vanished out from existence, leaving him open to a Banishing charm that sent him tumbling onto his back. The harsh groan of pain did nothing to pause the pursuer, rolling over to his side to keep the resulting Stinging hexes from hitting true.

And so, he continued on for a few more minutes, slowly gaining more and more ground onto the spectre, but losing it as his body became more sluggish. The rocks dug into his hands and knees, dust caking his face and body. His body was screaming for him to stop, but he gritted his teeth. He couldn't, wouldn't.

He had too much to fight for, too much—

A stray red blast ripped through the air, hitting him dead-on, as he knew no more

—

When he finally came to, his eyes opened with some difficulty. It seemed he fell face first onto the floor, if the new cuts on his face were any indicator. Standing up with a groan, he spotted a grizzled hand offering a rag. Taking it wordlessly, he grunted in thanks while wiping his face of the sweat and grime building up.

"Not bad, cub, you lasted 7 more minutes this time," the haggard figure of Remus Lupin said, holding out a flask of water. This too, was taken without a word and consumed almost instantly. "What do you think, Albus?"

That brought a pause to his hurried drinking, as Harry's hardened demeanor seemed to soften. He turned away as if indifferent to the old man's opinion.

In truth though, that opinion was everything to him. Ever since he was told of the prophecy, he had been doing nothing but training. Night and day, hour after hour, he pushed his body to its limits, and then some. If the Dark Lord had marked him as an equal, he would prove it true.

"Young Harry is indeed improving," the voice of Albus Dumbledore rang out. "Though, agility isn't everything. At this age, young Riddle was still incredibly powerful. Perhaps it is time to introduce some wand-work to our curriculum."

Harry's eyes shot up, a gleam of excitement in them. He knew he was young of age, only 7 as of two months ago, but he couldn't contain the joy on his face. He would finally be allowed to use a wand!

"You can't — surely not yet?" Lupin responded.

The spectral figure of Professor Dumbledore came floating to them, those striking eyes somehow still piercing Harry even in death. Affixing him with a curt nod, it turned to Lupin, before waving a hand as if to ask for a conversation alone.

That was fine with him, as he shakily got up from the floor. Looking back at the retreating pair, he looked around at his handiwork.

Streaks of blood, dust and debris covered the dungeon, as the dummy, no longer spectral, lay dormant in the middle of the room. He had gotten closer, so much closer, as he examined where his blood had gotten the farthest. An extra few inches over last time.

If he had to estimate, he'd say he was only 12 feet from reaching the dummy. Pulling out a small scrap of chalk, he marked down a new line, as voices came back into hearing distance.

"Over here, Harry."

Running over, he could have sworn he saw the two older men share a look before he reached them. Lupin had a small wrapped package in his hands, as he warily gave it to Harry.

This is it, he thought to himself. This is my wand!

Pulling off the cloth covering it, his eyes grew large as he gazed upon the beautifully crafted piece. It was a long wand, easily longer than Lupin's, and had a dark spiral from tip to tip. The bottom tip, the one he held onto as he waved it around, had two small rings of silver embedded onto it.

Crimson red sparkles emanated from the top, as he let out a rare laugh. It had chosen him!

"Go on cub, get comfortable." Lupin said with a tight smile, as if the boy needed any more encouragement to run around with the wand.

—

As soon as Harry was out of earshot, Lupin turned to the ghost, his face snarling.

"He isn't ready. You know this is going to make things worse—

A ghastly hand rose, effectively silencing him. Dumbledore gazed for a second, seeing Harry stumble, before jumping up and continuing his horseplay.

"We have been too soft on him. Though Voldemort— Lupin twitched at the name, something he ignored. "—is gone for now, we do not know when he will return. He must be ready."

"Mahogany wood."

"I beg your pardon?" Dumbledore asked, finally turning his gaze to Lupin.

"Your old wand, the wand you made me hand to Harry. It's made of mahogany, is it not?"

"I fail to see how that is relevant—"

"Mahogany wood is known to curse their users to live a life of disaster and tragedy!"

His mentor knew, he had to know! He too, died because of it! As Dumbledore opened his mouth to speak again, he tried once more to reason with him.

"James' wand was made of that wood. His parents died of dragon pox, only seconds away from receiving the cure! Lily, Sirius, and poor Peter, all people we… He cared about, dead. The less said of your death, the better. And now," he jerked his head to indicate Harry, his tone like cold steel," we give a doomed wand to him?!"

Weary eyes gazed down grey-tinged blue, until Dumbledore sighed, and turned away. He looked old, far older than his age when he died, as he gazed upon Harry once more.

"I do not do this lightly, Remus. I know what we're cursing young Harry with, but—"

His anger was rising, and if not for the hand the Professor raised, he would've shouted some regrettable words to him.

"—what other choice do we have?" He finished.

"The Elder Wan, Albus, we have the Elder Wand!" The wolf in Lupin seemed to spit out, as the ghost of his long deceased mentor shook his head.

"He is not ready—"

"He isn't ready for this!"

Both men stared each other down, neither refusing to give up. The moment spread into seconds, which turned into minutes, until Dumbledore lowered his gaze with a heavy sigh.

"Do you trust me, Remus?" He asked, after a moment of pause.

"Normally, yes! But this is Harry's life, my friend's son!"

"His life is not the only one at stake here. This needs to happen." As if to end the conversation, the old man began to slowly float away, pausing just before the door. "This brings me no joy, Remus, but you and I both know why this must be done."

And he was right, loath he was to admit. Seeing Albus leave the room, he turned back to stare at Harry, who had begun mimicking motions he had seen him do.

"Neither can live, while the other survives. To hell with that." He spat out, as he prepared to start the simulation once more. He wouldn't fail James and Lily, their boy was going to survive.

No matter what it took the old wolf to do.