A/N: I rarely update, and I'm not too certain I'll ever get to more than ten thousand words or finish the story. However, I appreciate the follows, reviews, and readers. Regardless, I hope you all enjoy, and for those who write, I hope you get some inspiration as well.

For those who read the previous version(s), apologies but these newly updated chapters will be what I base future content on. I wasn't particularly liking what I had from before, and I hope my changes will make the story better now and over time. There may be possible subtractions and additions later on, but I'll make you all aware of them via author's notes. Apologies for any confusion and inconvenience.

Heaps of bodies and rubble were scattered across a battlefield where an athletic-built and short-haired Harry Potter stood, breathing heavy and looking at the crumpled form of a dead murderer.

"It's over," Harry whispered as his body, exhausted and bruised, gave out from underneath him.

Even as he dropped to the ground, his gaze never left the lifeless form of the last Dark Lord.

Harry lit the body on fire with a lazy wave of his hand, and it quickly turned to ash. His face was devoid of emotion and his body more relaxed than ever; the culmination of years of pain began to finally bubble to the surface.

Letting the emotions wash over him, Harry brought down his Occlumency shields for the first time in what felt like forever.

Sorrow.

Joy.

Pain.

Guilt.

He felt them all.

At first, it was just a few tears, but then he broke down, his body falling forward. Harry used his arms to stop his fall.

"It's over…. It's over," he said in delirious melancholy and happiness; Harry didn't know whether to cry or laugh. He chose a mixture of the two, but eventually, his depression won out.

On his hands and knees, Harry sobbed his heart out. Sweat and tears mixed as they fell freely.

In a shaky, raspy voice, Harry whispered between sobs, "I did it Padfoot… Moony… It's over… It's over."

For the entirety of Harry's fourteen years of living, war, death, and pain had consumed him. Relentless Dark Lords and Ladies sought to claim Harry's head on a platter for the sake of world domination, power, and their own ideologies. But Harry had finally done it. After fourteen years, fourteen sodding years, Harry had completed his Merlin-forsaken prophecy. The cost? His friends, his parents, his mentors, and the world.

All the death and destruction resulted from the Second World War, or, more accurately, Grindelwald bringing the world to its knees by 1944.

Years before Harry's birth, Grindelwald's regime had taken over much of Europe, leaving only token resistance among his conquered states. Under his iron fist, Europe and much of the world suffered from extreme radicalization: muggles were prosecuted by the thousands, and blood superiority ran rampant. In secret, some Mages and Muggles resisted. Among them was Grindelwald's greatest foil: Dumbledore. However, it wasn't the esteemed headmaster in his hidden fortress of Hogwarts which escalated things following Grindewald's take over. No, it was one of Grindewald's own.

In November 1956, Grindelwald was assassinated, much to the world's shock. The power vacuum which ensued was notoriously bloody and divisive. Numerous factions sought to claim dictatorship, but all they accomplished was seemingly endless chaos and war. Practitioners of dark magic became commonplace as Dark Lords and Ladies arose by the hundreds with armies of dark creatures and mages to squabble over Grindelwald's broken empire. Some were better than others, but the constant wars bled the world red regardless.

By 1980, the Potters, among many other families still resisting, had rallied behind the organization known as the Order of the Pheonix. Hope was scarce. However, days after Hadrian James Potter's birth, a legitimate prophecy was made, bringing with it a newfound sense of purpose for those fighting the dark:

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Mages approaches... born to those who have relentlessly defied them, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Mages will mark him as their equal, but he will have power the Dark Mages know not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Mages will be born as the seventh month dies..."

Despite the efforts of the Order of the Pheonix, the prophecy was leaked to the world. Harry's parents tried to shield him from those leading the Order, but on the night of Halloween 1981, a Dark Lord going by the name "Lord Voldemort" took matters into his own hands and attempted to kill Harry to ensure his rule over Britain. In a twist of fate, Voldemort's killing curse rebounded and destroyed him, finalizing Harry as the true child of prophecy and leaving Lily and James Potter dead. As a result, against Sirius and Remus's wishes, Harry was taken by Dumbledore and the Order to be trained as a warrior.

Harry's youth was close to nonexistent, consisting of rigorous studying and sparing, hidden away and safely guarded. Through miracles of large-scale magic, the Order created time bubbles allowing Harry to spend years stuck at a certain age locked away in time with professors, warriors, and mentors.

Harry grew up among the best of the best, trained to be the protégé of many. But, unfortunately, the years which followed were cruel. Harry lost his mentors, Albus Dumbledore, Péronelle and Nicholas Flamel, Bassel Masih, Wei Yimu, Mashimo Noboru, Zulakha Sahani, and Vinícius Bastos; his uncle and godfather, Remus and Sirius; countless friends and fellow-warriors.

Guilt wracked Harry constantly. However, Harry trudged on while those around him slowly died; their deaths pushed Harry to his limits; he trained and fought until he collapsed.

Eventually, Harry surpassed everyone, leaving himself as the only force capable of standing against the Dark Lords and Ladies. Through battles across the world, killing, defending, and attacking, Harry had rooted them all out, destroying their Horcruxes as he went, leading him here: among the dead and finally free of prophecy.

Through blurry eyes, Harry deeply felt his pyrrhic victory.

Yes, he had vanquished his enemies, but the world was left in ruins, and everyone Harry loved was gone. The bitterness of his situation was not lost on him.

Shaking, teary-eyed, and struggling to keep upright, Harry thought, What the hell am I supposed to do now?

Unexpectedly, Harry felt a pulling sensation near his navel, making him scrunch his eyebrows together in confusion.

Harry got his wand out while tears still streamed down his cheeks. His first assumption was some sort of runic magic or portkey was trying to whisk him away.

A bit of anger and curiosity swept across his face. He had just finished his destiny. What was the world throwing at him now?

Maybe this wasn't the last Dark Mage…. Hesitation and some fear crept across his features at such a thought.

Harry tentatively got off his knees and slowly stepped forward, manoeuvring away from the remaining ash that was once a terror of the world. With haste, Harry swiped his wand in complex motions to solve the mystery he found himself in. Shaking his head slightly, Harry's doubts left him after a quick check of his magic: he was prophecy free; something else was going on. Harry's head swivelled around, looking for any clues as to where the growing sensation was coming from.

What the hell was happening?

Feeling a bit adventurous and thankful for a distraction from his misery, Harry started experimenting with the feeling, using his internal and external magic to test what it could be.

Seconds after attempting to mess with his inner magic, the sensation began to grow exponentially; what started as a slight discomfort quickly turned into torturous pain, causing Harry to let out a scream in anguish.

Falling to his knees once more, Harry began to feel as though his magic was burning him from the inside out.

Harry's eyes widened. What the fuck is happening?! Fuck, fuck fuck! Shit! Why now?!

Panic started to set in.

Moving on instinct, Harry slammed down on his Occlumency shields and tried to scavenge his enflamed brain for solutions. He found none.

Unexpectedly, the burning within Harry increased, causing him to let out a strangled scream as an invisible force pulled him at the navel.

Harry felt a squeezing sensation, worse than an apparition, and was forcefully pulled from his world. He tried to scream, but nothing escaped his lungs as his surroundings shifted unnaturally as lights, shapes, colours, and numerous other things crossed his senses.

The next he knew, a loud crack brought his vision back, and he found himself smashing into a hard, stone floor.

"Oomph."

Sprawled out on the floor, Harry groaned. He hurt everywhere, and when he tried to move, it made him wince, "owww."

Wait, what the actual fuck just happened?

Harry soldiered through the pain and checked to see if his wand was still in his hand. It was.

He struggled to get up, only to grimace and fall back down while letting out a low hiss with a touch of Parseltongue unconsciously slipped in. As he did so, he heard the sound of footsteps rushing towards him. Acting on reflex, Harry waved a hand, creating a modified shield around him. He listened to the telltale signs of a person crashing off his barrier as they let out a surprised yelp.

Harry got up and into a defensive position. Then, looking up and to the noise, he saw a man with long, red hair on their back outside his shield. Noticing feet behind the redhead's form, Harry shifted his gaze.

His eyes met a woman's, and Harry froze in shock, his voice trembling as words left his mouth.

"M-mum?"

Lily was frustrated. James, Albus, and more than half of the Order supported Dumbledore's plan to summon someone or something capable of defeating Voldemort. The number of unforeseen dangers and problems were, in her opinion, not worth it. She only hoped that who or whatever they summon wouldn't kill them all.

Biting her lip, Lily looked to the silver-haired headmaster and asked, "are you sure about this, Albus?"

"Of course, my dear. The dangers are minimal, and the research we've found concludes that a being fitting our purposes will be summoned. They will be bound to us until their task is fulfilled."

"Yes, I understand that, but what if this being doesn't want to be here? What if, once it finishes its task, it decides to get revenge? Can they even return to where they came from?" People around Hogwarts' Great Hall nodded to this, and some voiced their agreement.

Mad-Eye Moody produced a gruff hum. "Aye. I'm with Lily, Albus. I, too, have my reservations about this."

James looked to his wife and lightly put his hand on her arm, "your worries are well-founded, Lily, but we don't have the strength to combat Voldemort alone. We have contingencies in case things fall through." He let go of her arm, then moved in front of her and gently took her hands in his, "I know you don't want the girls to fight, I don't want them to either, but if we don't try this, then he'll keep coming for us, and then they may have to. It's a small price to pay for our children to be safe." He paused and looked around, "for all of our children."

Dumbledore finished James' thoughts in his grandfatherly voice, drawing Lily's attention, "Yes, James is right. However, to answer your other question, no… They cannot return… But I believe everyone here would be willing to accommodate their needs and make their stay as pleasant as possible."

Lily returned her gaze to her husband. She scrutinized the man in front of her, who looked lovingly at her with pleading eyes. His messy, dark hair and eyes entranced her. She loved him and their girls more than anything in the world. Ever since that damned prophecy regarding Harry had been made, their family had become enemy number one to the dark lord. He killed Harry, her baby boy. Her Harry. Her child; her flesh and blood. The accompanying rage and sorrow his loss brought were still felt. Both her and James had been forever changed since Halloween so long ago. That night Voldemort killed Harry and her in-laws at the cost of his own body, only to be resurrected during Holly's 3rd year at Hogwarts. Since then, he had made it his goal to end the Potters once and for all. Thankfully, there were plenty of safe places like Potter Manor and Hogwarts.

If Lily could give their daughters a life of peace away from war and maniac mages, then she begrudgingly agreed that it was a small price to pay. She couldn't bear the loss of another child. Lily sighed lightly. "Okay," she said softly, "alright, let's perform the ritual."

With a sad smile, James let go of her hands. He looked to Moody next, who was leaning against a pillar. Moody's eyes roam over James, then he looked to Lily. After a moment of deliberation, he let out a small sigh and shook his head.

"Fine. But if whatever bastard pops out tries kill us, don't say I didn't warn you all."

James gave a small smile and nodded in response. With Moody and Lily convinced, other sceptics like Molly, Bill, Alice, and others also caved.

The next hour saw the Order clearing out the Great Hall and preparing the summoning ritual by drawing runes into the floor and dowsing the ground with potions that Severus had brewed. When all was set and done, everyone stood and moved a distance away from the runes. James stood beside Lily and took her hand in his. He leaned in for a kiss, and Lily met him halfway. They heard a catcall to their right.

James reluctantly stopped and glared at Sirius and Remus, who were chuckling and making faces at them. Lily grinned at their antics. James looked back at her, put his forehead to hers, and then looked her in the eyes. "I love you, Lily, and no matter what happens, I'll always be next to you."

She couldn't help smiling affectionately at him and gave him a quick peck on the lips. With a mock glare, she said, "I love it too, but this better not be goodbye, James Potter."

He scoffed lightly and chuckled. "Of course it isn't!"

They smiled at each other.

Dumbledore brought them out of their reverie by clearing his throat and gaining the room's attention.

Lily and James directed their eyes to him with their hands still interlocked.

"I thank you all for your patience and efforts. We are now ready to begin." He nodded towards Severus, who acknowledged his queue and strode forward.

Snape began chanting in Anglo-Saxon from an ancient book in his hands, causing the runes to glow a soft blue.

The hall's occupants watched with bated breath, hoping that their call would be answered and that their fears would be assuaged.

The runes began to glow brighter, and Lily tightened her grip on James' hand. He gave her a squeeze back.

Lights began to darken, and soon the runes were all that lit the hall. Severus finished the chant, and then a blast of magic and a bright flash of light followed with an ear-ringing crack. James moved Lily into a protective embrace with his back to the ritual.

*CRACK*

Order members covered their eyes and tried to steady themselves as the magic washed over them.

After a second, the light began to subside, and silence reigned only to be cut apart by a rasping voice.

"owww."

James loosened his grip, and they parted to look at their summoned champion.

Stomach-down, facing away from Lily and James on the floor, was a young man with black hair and torn, bloodied battle robes padded with dark green scales.

Lily felt trepidation grip her as the man tried to get up.

He looks like a warrior, that's for sure.

The whole Order had their wands out as the man got onto his hands and knees only to stumble and let out a hiss.

All of a sudden, there was a movement to her left. Lily saw Bill Weasley rush forward to aid the man, Molly tried to pull him back, but she was too late.

The man heard Bill and waved his hand, erecting a shield around himself. The display of wandless magic shocked many among them, but they didn't have time to voice their surprise as Bill ran face-first into the barrier as it formed. Bill bounced away and landed on his back.

While this happened, the man got up with as much grace as he could manage and took a defensive stance with his wand out. His eyes shot to Bill, who groaned in pain.

Lily couldn't make out his face as he looked at Bill, but he raised his head, and then Lily and the man, no boy, locked gazes. His green eyes were puffy as if he had been crying, and his chiselled face was strangely familiar.

Lily's whole body went stiff, and she felt James' do the same.

The boy's eyes widened.

In a shaky, masculine voice, he said, "M-mum?"