Prologue
A hazy sunset rested upon the charred water troughs of 21 Privet Drive. The front door lay somewhere in the kitchen, which had been re-located somewhere in the sprawling front yard formerly known as numbers twelve, fourteen, and sixteen, of Privet Drive, as well as the odd chunk of pavement lying about, and the gaping chasm that once was, presumably, the road.
"So, this'll really work, Potter?" a weedy, blond haired man, garbed in black robes that were stained crimson, asked. A strand of hair crossed over his closed left eye, nearly masking the jagged cut across the lid of it. Recently caked blood tinted his face, and his voice was hushed, as if expecting to be attacked at any moment.
"Unless fate exists, it'll work. If it does, though, your death will be in vain, Malfoy. And if that were to happen, I don't know how I'd be able to live with myself!" a black-haired man shot back, chuckling. His eyes seemed to dart around constantly, aware of everything, whereas his left hand's first three fingers weren't even aware they existed, having rotted away. A black mould of sorts seemed to be creeping along his hand, having made short work of the most of his fingers already. And that ever-present scar on his forehead was dripping orange mucous.
"Remind me again, just what exactly are you two trying to do?" an orange-haired, decrepit old woman with round spectacles asked timidly, too shaken up by things to be her usual eccentric self.
"We're invoking several astral tons of ancient magic, every trace of residual magic within fifteen square miles, most of our own magical reserves, and Draco's ridiculously large life force, and activating more runes than you have crystal balls, in order to open a rift in time, and sending my thirty-five year old mind and soul back to advise my recently-turned eleven self. Hopefully, I'll be able to prevent things from happening in the first place. That answer your question, professor Trelawney?" Potter explained.
"b-b...but, but what if...what if it doesn't work, what if-" Trelawney started to ramble, before the black-haired man cut her off "'What if' doesn't matter. If it doesn't work, it doesn't work. We have nothing to lose, any more, nothing to live for, no future left, only the past to try to fix. If we happen to throw a wrench into things, we list it under collateral!"
A few moments of silence followed...So, the boy truly didn't care any more. How saddening, finding that one's student had fallen so far, from the hopeful, bright young man he once was...The wars killed souls. The battles tore flesh. But it was the aftermath that destroyed minds.
He was just a victim of yesterday...
"C'mon, Potter, the shit hole awaits!" Malfoy called out, as Trelawney waddled off to a magically reinforced bomb-shelter amidst the ruins of shattered stone.
No longer did the street stalls call out their prices. No, they creaked in the wind, screaming their forgotten laments of the horrors the world had been engulfed in.
The bank held nothing but scattered limbs, some green from mould, others, from illness, and more, from birth.
The hospital harmed more than helped. What was once a constant rush of plaster casts, sanitary liquids, green spells, and potions of all descriptors, now held shrapnel from monumental battles, mines, from clever ambushes, and nightmarish creatures, sniffing the earth for the remains of the suffering patients, who had been vaporized long ago.
Yes.
The world should end.
Come what may, this ritual would change everything. For better or worse, nothing could cause more suffering than this...
It wasn't an existence any more.
Harry Potter was the hope for the past, just as Draco Malfoy had once been the hope for the future.
Whatever was accomplished, it would be infinitely better than the present. If another dark lord broke out, then nothing would stand.
If the monstrosities that caused all this were stopped, then nothing would stand in the way of peace.
...Except the ministry.
Damn bureaucrats.
The seer slunk into safety. Now, it was time to wait.
"Yay, back to waiting for my balls to drop..." Potter mumbled, as the two walked into the epicentre of a massive array of runes, pentagrams, circles, and assorted trinkets.
A motley arrangement of archaic designs, crushed into a pattern, and held together with much tape, and more guess work.
It had to work, right?
After an hour and a half long chant of memorized incantations, both got into meditative stances, and slowly, the runes lit up with an ethereal, purple glow, starting with the outer rings. An arcane hum rang through the air, intensifying with each of these runes.
There were 4700 rings of runes, and each ring was spaced out an inch from its neighbour, and a foot out from the previous ring. That was the most important part. Never mind the chaotic array of pentagrams, crosses, foreign symbols, religious relics, historical artefacts.
Forget the moaning beasts, strung up and gutted alive.
Ignore the cries of the bleeding men and women, tied down to sacrificial posts.
Discard thoughts of pity, for their own familiar animals, ripped asunder, and used to bind pieces of the rituals together.
All that mattered, was the goal.
Nothing else existed, but the past...
By the time a mere hundred rings had been lit, both men were sweating, though Draco was gasping raggedly for breath, obviously completely worn out.
The blond gave a weary smile, and the life started draining out of him, as wrinkles formed on his face.
Four thousand five hundred fifty more rings lit up, and Malfoy collapsed peacefully, finally dead.
Smiling sadly, Potter focused once more, and quickly activated the final fifty rings of runes, except for the one remaining rune, right underneath him.
Pulling out a black, worn out, notched, scratched, beaten old wand, he flicked it once at the final rune, and a faint blue cocoon surrounded him, a more than slightly inverted shielding charm.
Looking on into the distance, Potter gained a determined look on his face, as he activated the last remaining rune with an incantation.
"Now is the time. Death itself shall be the last to be conquered...Onwards, Tuatha De Danann."
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