A/N: A rewrite of Chapter 68 / 69 to completion.
Apocalypse
"The decision will be made when fire streaks across the sky. Two paths will lay before him… one leading to salvation … the other… devastation. His decision will be made when fire streaks across the sky…. Salvation …. Devastation …. His decision will…"
-Sybill Trelawney
Atlantis, Time Unknown
A volcano split open, spitting fiery magma into the dark clouds that lined the sky, just as Harry tapped into the Void, an undercurrent of power humming beneath his skin, and channeled it into his legs, bending at the knee, and propelled himself forward with a mighty leap, intent on getting past them with the element of surprise.
But almost instantaneously his instincts screamed danger and he twisted in the air, as a bullet, a spectral blur in the air, shot by Freya, cut through the space between them. He dodged just in time, his senses sharpened by the Void, yet not altogether unscathed — a searing line of heat grazed his shoulder before he plummeted to the ground. Rolling onto his feet, he glared at the source of the bullet.
With fangs gleaming and swords drawn, the vampires blocked his path. Behind him, the odd pair of Tom and Albus's wands glowed with a synchronized ominous scarlet hue that Harry knew had Death written on it.
He quickly pushed his arms out and energy burst from him like an air cannon with the sound of a muffled explosion, traveled fast, pulverizing anything in its way. Walls, boulders and rocks blew to pieces as the pulse of magic tore through them.
The eyes of his enemies widened, panic flowing through their veins as protective shields shimmered into existence. Dumbledore, covering Freya, while the vampires shielded themselves with their magically imbued swords as destructive power smashed into their shields, sweat forming on their brow as they held firm until it passed and shimmered away.
Harry closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, readying himself for battle. His opponents were strong. What their goals were was immaterial. They were worthy of magic.
His heart drummed in his chest, and adrenaline coursed through his veins. A giddy thrill bubbled within him, a laughter escaping his lips. How he had missed this thrill, the dance of life and death.
Tracey, Daphne and Hermione were a good distance away so their shields had held on.
"We got to get further away," Hermione said urgently.
"No," Daphne replied firmly. "I'm staying till the end."
"Daphne," Tracey began to say.
"No," Daphne repeated stubbornly.
Tracey was confused. Why was Daphne being so insistent about staying? Her eyes flickered back and forth between the battle unfolding before them and to Daphne, before her eyes widened in comprehension.
She looked at Hermione with wide eyes, searching for confirmation of her assumption and Hermione just shook her head, silently warning Tracey not to press the subject.
Tracey sighed. "Fine. But let's at least move further back behind some strong rubble. We won't be able to withstand the aftershocks."
"I'm fine where I am," Daphne replied.
Tracey glared at Daphne, feeling the urge to pull the stubborn girl by her hair away from danger but she relented. She had faith in Dumbledore and Freya. She had seen their strength in the Desert after escaping from Avalon. She didn't believe it was coincidence that they had found a badly wounded Dumbledore in the Desert. She didn't believe the castle they had created in the Desert as a safe haven for lost travelers was futile. She had faith things would work out.
With a sigh, she sat down on the ground beside Daphne and Hermione joined as well, quietly looking at the apocalyptic scene before them.
Tracey glanced at the wand in Daphne's hand. It was different from before. "New wand?" she questioned curiously as a blast of heat from the fiend fire Voldemort was wielding rushed into them bringing strong winds and they shielded their faces with a grimace.
"Lost mine at the ministry. Found this in the Desert," Daphne replied, looking at the wand with affection. "It's strange but it feels better than my original."
"What's it made of?" Hermione asked curiously.
"Holly and Phoenix feather I think. At least that's what Oliver told me back at our settlement."
Another gust of hot wind blasted towards them, carrying the scent of burnt earth and ruffled their robes and the three girls gulped when they saw Harry rise into the sky. His silhouette, outlined against the bloody canvas of the sky, his arms outstretched, as if to deliver divine judgment.
"Maybe we should keep our shields up," Tracey muttered nervously.
"Agreed," Hermione breathed, the fear palpable in her voice.
New York, Time Unknown
Bellatrix Black, one of the most dangerous witches of her time, found herself amused as a three sixty degree backdrop of chaos unfurled in New York's Times Square. Her dark eyes took in scenes of anarchy, the once lively heart of the city now marred by fiery riots that painted an image of Hell on Earth as humanity lost its sanity. As if the violence wasn't enough, the distant and violent eruption of Yellowstone, almost two thousand miles away, sounded closer with each explosion. The continent was not just cracking; it was being shredded to pieces under the weight of its own despair.
However, amidst the pandemonium, Bellatrix was unaffected. She casually lounged in a beach chair, appearing as though she was on vacation rather than in the midst of societal collapse. In her hand, a bottle of aged wine gleamed under the flickering street lights - the pinnacle of luxury at the end of the world.
Suddenly, a woman materialized from the depths of the crowd. Wild-eyed, disheveled, and with desperate fury radiating from her every pore, her eyes locked on to the relaxed witch. Something snapped within her. With rage propelling her forward, she drew a gun and fired at the woman taking pleasure from the turmoil.
But Bellatrix was no ordinary woman. Her wand was in motion even before the woman had fully pulled the trigger. With a lazy flick of her wrist, she diverted the bullet, batting it away like a bothersome fly. A second later, just as effortlessly, she flicked her wand again, causing her assailant to explode into a gruesome mosaic of flesh, blood, and bone fragments. It was brutal, it was her style.
She couldn't help but chuckle at the spectacle, taking a deep, satisfying swig from her bottle. As she crossed one leg over the other, the chaos around her became a mere sideshow. In her eyes, this setting wasn't a scene of world-ending catastrophe. It was a front-row seat to the most extraordinary show the world could offer – the downward spiral of humanity. And she wouldn't have missed it for the world.
The Desert, Time Unknown
Severus Snape had been roaming for weeks. As the scorching sun rose and set, marking the passage of days and nights, his existence was stripped down to its most primal form: the need to survive. Each day was a struggle, balanced by precious nightfall when the harsh death rays of the sun were replaced by the soft glow of the moon.
His sustenance was minimal - a sufficient supply of food, kept safe in his bottleless pockets, enough to sustain him for a year and water that he painstakingly rationed, not knowing if he'd ever reach his destination.
Often, the desert played cruel tricks on his mind. Mirages would dance at the edge of his vision, taunting him with illusions of vibrant oases or images of huts and a settlement. But Snape, a master of the mind arts, resisted the desert's mind games and pushed on through the shifting seas of sand, his black robes staying intact despite the abrasive nature of the wind, carrying with it unforgiving grains of sand.
As time went on and the desert seemed on the verge of claiming another victim, a pale white structure rose from the horizon. Erected seemingly out of nowhere, it was a castle that stood like a beacon against the desert landscape. It bore a strong resemblance to his previous home, Hogwarts, with its towering turrets. Yet, there was an ethereal quality to it – its walls were smoother, the turrets shinier, the entire form appeared to glow under the moonlight.
It felt like hope piercing through a nightmare. As Snape's eyes drank in the sight, an uncharacteristically strong feeling of happiness swelled within him. For some reason, he was reminded instantly of Dumbledore. He knew the end of his journey was in sight.
The Settlement, Time Unknown
Sirius and Arthur were sitting on one of the tsunami walls they had set up, the sky turbulent with rushing dark clouds. Their meeting grounds, once a growing hub of hope and ideas, was now a pit of despair as another tremor shuddered through the earth. Earthquakes had relentlessly pummeled them for the past hour, as the skies turned dark, making them feel like they were on a paper boat adrift on stormy seas.
"Who would've imagined we'd live to see the world's end, eh Arthur?" Sirius muttered, his voice half drowned by the low rumble beating through the ground beneath them.
From beneath sad eyes, Arthur pushed out a dry chuckle, a feeble protest against the inevitable end. His gaze swept across their settlement, catching the weary faces of its inhabitants. The ocean water had been receding further and further into the horizon, raising the level of fear in the inhabitants of the Settlement to extreme.
There were no more words needed. The air was charged with a deafening truth — the end of the world was no longer a distant hypothesis but a crushing reality.
London, Time Unknown
Shadows danced across Draco's face, cast by the plumes of fire bursting out of crumbling buildings as they fell to the violent tremors of the ground. He planted himself firmly on the cracked and dusty road, alone, the Elysium just a blurry dot on the edge of his clouded vision. Clinging to a bottle of whiskey, its amber liquid sloshing with each unsteady movements of his own body. His words slurred and punctured with hiccuped laughter, tangled with distant screams as what was left of London finally crumbled to dust. The final nail in the coffin had taken its time to shut the lid forever.
Every now and then, he'd take an unsteady swig from the bottle, the burn of the alcohol feeling like the only real thing left. An unsteady, bitter grin tugged at his lips, the bitter tang of the whiskey on his tongue like a final toast. "What a douche… that Potter. Gonna sock him if I ever see him again."
Draco slumped to the ground and passed out.
Hogwarts, Time Unknown
Far away from the chaos, Luna Lovegood was in her own world at Hogwarts, the magical school that had nurtured her, to which she was unwaveringly attached. Ignorant to the disaster unfolding across the globe, she went about her day as if it was just another peaceful afternoon.
The ancient walls of Hogwarts were now adorned with old, sturdy vines. Their aggressive sprawl, a response to the magic that now saturated the air. Luna, carrying a watering can decorated with her imaginative drawings of Nargles and Wrackspurts and filled to the brim with potions she was experimenting with, ambled along the stone path that led around the castle walls.
She hummed a light, odd melody as she poured magical water onto the ground, the vines quivering in delight.
Oblivious to the dire state of the world, the vast lands surrounding Hogwarts were unaffected. The air was thick with magic and the forest alive with the sounds of the creatures that lived within and the castle, her grounds and her inhabitants carrying on with life as they waited….
Luna's eyes sparkled with an optimistic light as she meticulously moved along the walls, watering and talking to the vines, telling them her stories of magic and dreams. She told them tales of mermaids in the Black Lake, of the Forbidden Forest's magical creatures, of Hogwarts' many secret rooms and passageways.
The world was in mayhem, but Luna Lovegood, the caretaker of a magical castle, tended to Hogwarts, preserving the aura, the soul of the school, waiting for a student to enter its halls once more. Time had fallen asleep and Luna was home.
The Battle for the Source, meanwhile, had exploded into a turbulence of fire and lightning. Harry was at the center of it, with a single thought running through his mind - to charge headfirst into the source. Every beat of his heart, every bead of sweat on his skin, every flex of his magic, was attuned to that hypnotic impulse, driven like a moth to a flame.
As he ascended into the smoky sky, he deftly maneuvered away from the deadly black flames Tom was aiming at him and the rubble that Dumbledore was transfiguring into spears enchanted to track him and punch holes in him.
With magic keeping him afloat, he zipped across the sky avoiding the flames and swatted aside the spears, with accuracy that had Dumbledore's eyes widening and from high ground he looked into what lay within the source.
When he saw it, it winded him, making his breath hitch in his throat. Above the swirling gigantic ball of destructive magic was the gaping maw of infinity; an ocean of galaxies linked to each other by faint white wavy lines of light. Swirls of gasses bathed infinity with color and bright starry constellations were scattered across, like diamond dust. It was painfully beautiful to behold.
This was the fabric of reality, ripped open before his eyes. A gaping wound that bled cosmic radiation through the tear that Atlantis had created. A sight as stunning as it was heartbreaking. To mend the seams was his mission, his responsibility. This was the reason the source had chosen him. The daunting nature of it could have overwhelmed him but instead, it fueled his determination further.
Time, that had frozen for a moment, began to speed up as his eyes turned back to the storm of assault, forced to defend. The vampires streaked towards him, their speed making them a blur as their swords slashed through the air, screeching against his shield as they forced him to the ground.
His shield was tested further by Freya's lethal and precise bullets. Like deadly hornets, the projectiles cut through the air, their high-velocity screams ringing in his ears as they smashed into his magic, screeching with the will to pierce through.
He landed in a crouch on the ground with a grunt, holding his shield firmly around him as he squinted through the smoke, trying to locate his enemies, straining under the relentless onslaught of the vampires and Freya, as the deafening roar of the fiend fire, eerily reminiscent of the black dragon from the Badlands, echoed in his head as it rushed towards him, capable of burning through his shield and him to ash. Flitwick and Moody kept the pressure up with a consistent barrage of blasting hexes.
The air around him burned against his skin, as the black fire closed in on him and his eyes sharply traced its source to Tom and Albus, working together, controlling the fiend fire, their wand movements in sync.
A surreal sensation of weightlessness washed over him as he leaped backwards with blinding speed, away from the fire, the distance between him and the source increasing. He was enjoying this. A grin split his lips apart as adrenaline fueled his state of being. He felt power surge within him roused by the thrill of battle as his shield grew stronger, holding firm as Freya continued her relentless onslaught. Magic coursed through it, feeding it with his unyielding will.
And then a moment of respite appeared. Their attacks ran out of steam, as they took a moment to breath and rally to mount a fresh attempt to break through his impenetrable shield.
Harry saw his opening and his eyes widened with glee. It was time to go on the offensive. He delved deep within himself, reaching into the wellspring of power that was the Void.
With precision and speed, with a single finger, he drew a rune of disintegration, each stroke sharp and purposeful. This was a battle to overwhelm. He didn't need anything fancy. He focused his will around this single rune, everything else fading into insignificance as magic pulsed from him, a tangible wave rippling out in the split second opening his enemies had allowed him. The air around him, centered around the rune, crackled with electricity and sparks lept from the rune as it began to spin with a whine of high speed as Harry flicked his finger and the rune rushed towards them.
It had taken just a couple of seconds and halfway it stopped, shimmered and a wave of destruction exploded outwards, the landscape transforming into a canvas of utter devastation. The towers that remained were abruptly subjected to an overpowering force, their integrity failing against the violent pressure. They burst apart, their debris falling like heavy rain.
Valerie, caught blindsided by the unexpected cataclysm, was stuck frozen. She tried to mount a defense a split second too late and she erupted in a shower of blood, flesh and bone, her existence disintegrated in the blink of an eye.
Drake's anguished scream was eclipsed by the cacophony of destruction.
Freya managed to force her will to shield her against the assault and was sent flying through the air as though swept by an unseen force. She smashed through a crumbled wall, coated in dust and debris, but alive.
Tom and Dumbledore, were brought to their knees, being closer to Harry, grappling with the unrestrained force of Harry's attack. Their hands trembled as they wielded their wands, magic stretched thin as they struggled to weave a shield that could withstand the onslaught. Moody and Flitwick were lucky to be the furthest away and able to withstand the impact with their power.
As the wave spread, Harry's eyes were drawn to where Daphne was. Cold dread gripped him, his heart pumping in double time as instinct propelled him, the world blurred as he blinked out of existence and materialized in front of her.
He snapped his hands in front and formed a shield. Magic surged from him, strands of white light pouring out from his fingers, creating a translucent dome around the women behind him. The shield vibrated with a high pitched ringing sound as it consumed the raw energy and protected the occupants from certain death.
"Harry," Daphne whispered in shock as he stood in front of them, breathing heavily.
Harry took two breaths to calm himself. "You need to get away, Daphne," Harry said softly.
Drake, his sense of caution clouded by the death of his partner of centuries, lunged towards Harry. His movements were swift and desperate, tainted with the sharp edge of rage, as he closed, his intention to sever Harry's head evident in his eyes.
Yet, Harry didn't so much as blink in the face of the imminent threat. His palms glowed with red potent power and equally fast, he caught the blade in his magically infused left palm, his grip steady against the cold metal and without breaking momentum he swung his right arm down in an arc, a translucent blade emerging from his hand.
Drake's body jolted, his eyes going wide in shock as he felt his body bisected. He crumpled to the ground, his immortal dreams laid to rest.
Harry let go of the blade and the top half of his body fell to the ground in a splatter of blood and guts.
Behind Harry - Daphne, Tracey, and Hermione bore silent witness to the chilling spectacle. Their faces were pale, their eyes wide with shock. The brutal display etching an image deep in their memories.
"Hermione," Harry said calmly. "Drag her away if you have to. You will not survive if you don't get far away from here."
As if to prove his point, the pebbles of rubble on the ground began to shake as he pulled on the endless void within him, unreal levels of power welling within him, quaking the ground he stood on. His gaze settled on Tom, Dumbledore and Freya who stood between him and the Source. They didn't attack but were waiting for him to make a move, the faces hard with determination. They had realized direct assault would not work. A change of tactics was needed.
"You do what you have to do, Harry," Daphne retorted, her voice carrying a tone of defiance. "And I'll do what I have to do."
Exasperation seeped into Harry's veins and a sudden, sharp twinge shot through Daphne's neck, muddling her vision as consciousness left her. "Leave, now!" he commanded, looking into Hermione's wide eyes as Daphne slumped to the ground.
"Dumbledore," Harry called out, walking towards them calmly. "You can't win this. All you're doing is delaying the inevitable. I am going to enter the Source and I'm going to close the rift whether you like it or not." He'd rather not waste any more energy than he. He needed it all for the gargantuan task that lay before him.
"You don't understand the consequences, Harry," Dumbledore replied sharply. "Your actions could result in the destruction of the planet! The energy seeping from the Source is too intricately tied into life and magic on this planet now. We need to find another way! We need to think about this carefully!" His eyes pleaded with Harry to stop.
But Harry just stared, deadpan. Dumbledore's words meant nothing to him. Whether they were right or wrong didn't matter. This was an intimate relationship between him and the Source. His life was centered around it right from the beginning. From the day he survived the killing curse to the day he split his Aunt's neck from ear to ear. The day the Void had come to him, to save him from eternal damnation.
It had evolved since. Leading him to the Quest to find the Source. To unlock its mystery. And unlock them he did. A fundamental cosmic energy that bound the universe together. A power humanity that thought they could exploit. They had torn a hole in its fabric instead.
And now, here he was at the source of this cosmic wound. The Void had helped him in his darkest hours. And now it was his turn to help. If the price was the planet. Then so be it.
"Harry. Just think about it. All we need to do is put our heads together and figure out a way to use this power to go back in time, back to the lynch pin and stop all this death and destruction from ever happening! He must turn the pages back for a better future."
It was a sensible line of reasoning, Harry thought, but it didn't matter. His mind was made up. But his words did make him curious.
"And what lynch pin are we talking about here?"
Tom stepped forward. "It could be anything. It could be the night Dumbledore gave you to the muggles."
Dumbledore's head snapped towards Tom in surprise. He had assumed Tom would want to go back to the night he tried to kill the Potters. He couldn't help but allow a smile to tug the corner of his lips. Perhaps his wayward student had found his way back.
Tom felt Dumbledore gazed and turned towards him and shrugged. "He's the lynch pin, not me."
Harry processed his words. His voice had a cold but hypotonic undertone that he felt deep, like a hammer striking anvil. It was his first meeting with the man whose reign of terror he had stopped as a baby to be known since then as 'The Boy who Lived' and then just as 'The Disaster'.
Harry chuckled. Oh the irony of a prophecy.
Tom and Dumbledore held their breaths and Freya hung back waiting, ready. She didn't understand the history but she knew who she had to stop here.
"So mean to erase me from existence so that you can be allowed to continue your unworthy existence."
"Not erase. Just rewrite," Dumbledore said.
"And just who are you to decide who is and who isn't worthy of anything?" Freya cut in sharply. "You're not a god. You're just an overpowered sociopath!"
Harry shrugged, unaffected. His ambition was too strong. "Fate is pulling our strings here. And I'm just her harbinger."
Harry resumed his walk towards them, the massive sphere of energy pulsed stronger as he turned his gaze on it. The call was stronger. And it felt right. He had to embrace the source and heal the rip. Or die trying.
"You're only wasting my energy," Harry said. "You know you can't stop me."
Harry closed his eyes and planned his next move. He had been able to teleport, it was possible. Getting to Daphne had proved it. The drawback was it would be obvious to them and he could be exposed to an attack.
He had to be fast. He began to summon every atom of the Void to his control. There was no more time to think. It was now or never.
He opened his eyes, brimming with magic, he saw the traps they had laid all around the ground. Tom and Dumbledore certainly worked fast. They were certainly the most skilled and powerful wizards he had come across. But they were no match for him. His connection to magic.. to the Source ran far deeper. They could never understand.
He saw them raising their wands in slow motion as if they sensed his next move coming. He saw Freya's shotgun raise in slow motion, a tad quicker than Tom and Dumbledore.
It was time to stop playing around. He was delaying, because truth be told, if there was one thing that was holding him back, it was that this could be the last time he ever saw Daphne. He couldn't stop the tear that rolled down his cheek. He loved her.
He saw the muzzle of Freya's gun form a spark and the tips of the wizards wands turn bright, one dark green and the other an angry red.
"Goodbye," he whispered and touched his palms together in front of him and then parted them away, parting the fabric of space between him and the Source, opening up a path one step away.
A part of him wondered what life would have been like if he hadn't been left with the Dursleys. But he shook his head with a wry smile. No, he wouldn't change a thing. This was his destiny. His fate. His purpose. And he stepped through the rip just as the space he stood exploded under a shower of curses and bullets.
He appeared a few meters away from the source and was immediately brought to his knees by the tremendous power that crushed the air around it. He gasped for air and put his hands on the ground to hold him up. His eyes were wide, experiencing the power of the Source so close to him for the first time.
It was overwhelming.
Harry took deep breaths as the exploding sounds of the earth being shattered apart by bolts of energy from the Source thundered all around him. He couldn't hear the sound of his own thoughts. The Source was reacting to his proximity as well.
Summoning every bit of willpower that he had, he stood up with a groan and struggled closer.
He was mere millimeters away and seconds apart from touching the source, when he felt his body get yanked backwards and the ground began to erupt around him, reforming into bars of steel, a cage engraved in runes.
"Aargh!" Harry screamed in frustration. "Stop interfering!"
He slammed a fist infused with power into the bars, intent on tearing them open, but to his shock, it didn't break.
A blend of red and yellow light was streaming out from Tom and Dumbledore's wands and they were straining with effort to pour their power into the runic cage they had trapped Harry in.
Rage and frustration began to consume Harry. He had been so close! With a snarl he raised his hand with two fingers stretched out and molded the Void into a long silver blade fueled with his will to slash any kind of matter out of his way.
The sound that followed was akin to silence cutting through a vacuum of chaos. Sound was cut off for a moment as the cage was sliced apart and an arc of gleaming silver light flew towards the trio, sucking the air out of the atmosphere as it sped towards them.
Their eyes widened in shock and they dropped flat to the ground, knowing their power didn't stand a chance, narrowly avoiding a death like Drake's.
Harry immediately followed up on his attack by gathering magic in the palm of his hand, compressing it into a swirling ball of black and green strings of light and hurled it at them with a scream.
Not waiting to see the impact, he turned on his heel, poured magic into his legs and leaped forward, soaring through the air, his clothes flapping rapidly with hot oppressive air slamming into his face and at last, saw the light of the Source rush towards his eyes and suddenly he felt like he had just plunged headfirst into water.
The light that was blinding on the outside was the opposite on the inside, his eyes were open, but there was only darkness around him. He tried to breathe, but there was no air.
Panic began to rise in him and he began to look desperately around, searching for a way forward. He was drowning and it took a moment for him to realize his vision was not darkening. It was pitch black around him but it still felt like his eyes were open and normal. In fact, even though he felt like he was underwater, he felt dry. He realized he didn't need to breathe.
He calmed down, staring into the darkness, trying to look around for a sign, a light, anything to show him the way. That epic cosmos he had seen from the outside. He touched his wrist with his magical arm to check his pulse and he felt his skin, cool and clammy but he couldn't find a pulse.
Am I still alive? He wondered. Or had the matter that made him been altered the moment he entered the Source?
He decided to swim to what he perceived was deeper. A breaststroke, aimless and languid.
Of all the things he had expected once he entered the Source, this was nowhere on the list.
Where am I? He said out loud, but no sound was heard. He just had his thoughts. There was no pain, no fatigue.
He reached for the core of magic within him and felt it strong… vibrant… revitalized. He reached out with it to what he perceived was all around him, but felt nothing respond.
Just an endless vast invisible ocean.
His internal clock kept ticking as he kept moving, feeling resistance from the strange fluid, proving to him that he was indeed moving somewhere, even if not knowing where.
Time began to slow down until it didn't exist anymore. Had it been hours now? or was it just mere minutes?
What was happening on the outside? Had nothing changed or had everything?
He kept swimming, the disassociation he felt without sight making him unable to think coherent thoughts and the concept of time began to feel meaningless.
He just focused on his thoughts around the purpose of finding the rip he had to fix.
He didn't know why. He began to feel tranquil. Serene. There was not a single thing to worry about. He felt like he could just let go and everything would become alright.
Harry felt consciousness return to him. He never even realized he had lost consciousness. He felt warmth on his skin, like the light of sunrise. He opened his eyes and a soundless gasp left his lips as he finally saw it. The chasm in the cosmos that just didn't belong.
Before him sprawled an infinite stretch of nebulae, vast swaths of hues that floated in the black space like living aspects of the universe, birthing stars, planets, galaxies or universes, he couldn't tell.
He felt his heartbeat return as he took in the awe inspiring sight of the heart of life and magic. And directly below him lay a gaping rift, silently spewing out gargantuan dark coloured frayed strings made of out energy or matter, he wasn't sure, sparking at the edges, an obvious anomaly in the fabric. His Quest was at its end.
Purpose filled him, the Void felt more powerful than he had ever felt before. Harry extended his hands towards the cosmic rift, palpitating with the enormity of his task. He was an ant facing a wounded titan. Silent currents of cosmic energy swirled around his fingertips as he began to extend his magic, his will, to stitch the unbelievable damage the mages of Atlantis had done.
There was no room for doubt. His heart slowed down and he felt it step into rhythm with the breath of the universe around him. He felt unlimited power rush through him, feeding him with its desire, its desperate cry to be fixed echoing in his mind. Energy began to pour out of him in the form of infinite strings of white light as he reached for the frayed edges and focused everything on mending the damaged fabric.
He gasped in shock as the magic surged through him with greater force, power he was unable to contain, pain rocked through his body as he let out a scream as his threads of magic began to connect the torn halves of the rift and Harry focused hard on trying to spread his threads across the vast chasm.
The Energy surged harder and pulsed within him, threatening to burn him from the inside out. His eyes glowing with untamed energy. His hands shook with the force of it, his muscles spasming under the stress of containment. He clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms as he attempted to maintain control. Sweat trickled down his forehead, mingling with the tears that leaked from his eyes. His breaths were short, ragged, the power almost consuming him.
The medium around him cracked and began to smoke, unable to withstand the energy he was leaking. His heart pounded in his chest, the rhythm overclocked.
He let out a silent scream, his eyes wide as his determination refused to die. He would not let this power control him. He would conquer it.
In the realm of Gaea, things had taken a turn towards the worst case scenario.
They were no match for Harry and he disappeared into the chaotic swirl of Source.
"No!" Dumbledore whispered in shock.
They waited with baited breaths for the inevitable end and when, after the moment passed and nothing happened - Tom, Dumbledore and Freya exchanged glances with each other, all reflecting the same expression, was their doom imminent or had they escaped it?
Flitwick and Moody watched on helplessly. They knew they were outclassed and unable to do a thing.
As if to answer their question, the ground began to shake. A quake deeper than they had felt before, spreading across the lost continent.
"We failed," Tom whispered as the swirl of energy contained within the structure began to swell and the arcs of energy it was spewing began to strike further out with more destructive force.
The volcanoes scattered across the continent began to spit more magma and ash. The fumes filled the air, painting an apocalyptic sky.
What was left of Atlantis trembled under the mighty destructive forces traveling from the core of the earth.
Freya watched with detachment as the land crumbled around her.
"Is this the end?"
Gaea trembled under the weight of immeasurable power as Harry struggled on the precipice. Tears streamed down his cheeks - not tears of sorrow or despair, but of sheer willpower and determination. His hands, once shaking with the unimaginable strain of wielding the very essence of the Source… now shook with the undeniable will that coursed through every atom of his existence.
Near the edge of the cliff where they had descended from perhaps just an hour ago, Daphne woke up with a gasp, her memories of the past few hours flooding back. She remembered the hit on the back of her neck and how she had fallen unconscious. Her heart raced as she looked around, trying to make sense of her situation.
The ground beneath her was quaking and cracking, sending her tumbling to the ground. She saw Hermione and Tracey holding onto a nearby rock for support. Daphne scrambled to join them, clinging onto the rough surface.
"What's happening?" Tracey shouted above the noise of crumbling rocks and the roar of distant magma spewing from the volcanoes.
"I don't know," Hermione yelled back, her normally calm voice filled with panic. "But I think this is the End!"
The trio looked around frantically, but there seemed to be no escape. The ground beneath them continued to shake violently, threatening to swallow them whole.
"We have to get back to the others!" Daphne said, fear lacing her words.
"But how?" Tracey yelled, pointing at the shaking ground.
"We need to apparate!"
"No other options," Hermione agreed, straining her voice to be heard.
"Line of sight apparation would be the safest," Daphne shouted.
Harry could see the frayed ends begin to join together, merging, its ragged edges twitching and writhing as if being shocked back to life.
Harry groaned and fell to his knees. The medium around him forming an invisible platform beneath him. He could feel his will draining but there was so much more to do. He needed more energy but he could feel his control waning, the threads of magic he was weaving, struggling with cohesion.
Daphne, Hermione and Tracey made it to the rest of the group who just stood some distance away, helpless, balancing themselves with magic on the shaking ground, staring at the swirl of energy before them that was rapidly contracting.
"He did it," Daphne gasped softly, her voice drowned under the roar of destructive magic and natural violence as she summoned her magic to balance herself.
The sphere of energy became smaller and smaller and suddenly the ground stopped shaking and the pungent smell of sulfur and ash filled the air. The group stood in awe as they watched the sphere of energy shrink into a humanoid figure, suspended in midair.
"Is that...Harry?" Tracey asked in disbelief.
"It must be," Hermione replied, her voice filled with wonder.
His body was a mass of an otherworldly light and the air around him was shimmering and distorting their vision as the clouds in the sky began to swirl above him and the invisible runes that had raced across the sky turned visible with an ominous red, the glyphs casting fast moving shadows on the ground, like thousands of words, unspoken, rushing across the face of the planet.
The gusts of wind grew stronger and louder, whipping hair and clothing. The figure's mouth opened wide, revealing sharp teeth as it let out a deafening scream that seemed to pierce through their skulls, causing them all to drop to the ground in agony and cover their ears in a futile attempt to block out the sound.
Through grit teeth, Tom raised his wand. "Avada Kedavra!" he screamed. A jet of dark green light raced towards Harry or what he had become and dissipated into nothingness mere inches away from him.
As the group watched, the figure that was once Harry stopped screaming and started to descend, his feet touching the ground with a thud that sent shockwaves through the entire continent, forming jagged patterns like a spider's web.
"What in Merlin's name is happening?" Moody shouted, his magical eye whirring in disbelief.
"I don't know, but we need to stop him!" Dumbledore shouted, and he began casting killing curses alongside Tom in a desperate attempt to end his life and cut off his connection to the source and stop the devastation.
Unknown to them the cracks in the ground were spreading all across the planet. The continents were shaking, breaking apart, causing untold destruction to all forms of life. The crust of the planet was cracking. The core overheating.
It was the worst case scenario. Harry's attempt to seal the rift was unsustainable to the limit of Gaea.
Daphne didn't know what she was feeling. Tears were streaming down her cheeks and her mind fractured with desperation. What could she do!?
The figure fell to its knees and another wail tore from its mouth as the runes in the sky began to pick up speed. The volcanoes were erupting violently and it was only a matter of time before the earth collapsed below their feet or they were pulverized by molten rocks.
The sounds of destruction, magic and terror faded away into the background and a surreal calm filled Daphne's soul as she looked at Harry, on his knees, pouring all his magic, his power, his will, his existence, into the quest that had consumed him from the moment he was born.
She felt deep sorrow.
She gripped her wand tighter in her palm and closed her eyes. If this was truly the end, then she was going to go out right beside him.
Tracey and Hermione saw her lift her wand above her head and knew what she was going to do. It was madness!
"Daphne, no!" Hermione screamed.
But it was too late. Daphne disappeared from sight with a loud crack.
"It's a funny thing, love. People scorn it, get addicted to it, become rational or irrational, judged by its weight on their souls … or soar into the sky when they feel it in its purest form."
Lily Potter laughed, a faraway look in her eye.
"Professor Dumbledore," she continued, her eyes refocusing on the most powerful wizard in her generation. "Haven't you ever wondered… if that power could ever be harnessed?"
Dumbledore chuckled. "People always laugh when I talk about it. But, you're not the first to walk this path, Lily. Tell me, have you considered a career in the Department of Mysteries?"
"Potions has always been my area of expertise, Professor," Lily said dryly.
"And you intend to harness it… through potions?"
"I believe in the power of our humanity, professor. And what better way to test its limits… than internal… enhancements," she said, her eyes twinkling as she rubbed the bump on her belly. "Studying ancient relics holds no appeal to me."
Dumbledore laughed.
"Well, let me tell you about this chamber, hidden deep within the heart of the Ministry of Magic…."
- Lily Potter and Albus Dumbledore in conversation - Spring of Nineteen Eighty.
Daphne had apparated without thought and she felt herself slam into a barrier and materialized, winded, a few dozen meters away from Harry, her heart pounding in her chest.
"Harry!" She screamed, hoping against all hope he could hear her through the deafening violence of nature and magic around her.
Tom and Albus ceased their fruitless assault, snapping aside their attacks with a grunt to avoid killing Daphne.
"Daphne! Get back!" Hermione's voice could not pierce through the chaos, her eyes wide with alarm.
Tracey's hands clenched into fists, her voice laced with desperation. "Daphne, don't!"
But Daphne couldn't hear their pleas, her focus solely on the man she had fallen for. The world around her blurred, the cacophony fading into the background as she summoned every ounce of magic and determination within her.
Her gaze met Harry's, his eyes white, glowing and blank.
"Harry," she whispered gently. She felt like she was floating amongst clouds. Knowing there was only one language to get through. She closed her eyes and focused. "Harry," she whispered again, the tip of her wand beginning to glow.
Lost and buried deep underground, under layers of enchantments. In what was once known as the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic, a door, with white light pulsing through the cracks in its frame, rattled.
Harry's consciousness was being consumed by the overwhelming power of the Infinity. Cosmic power flowed from his fingertips as Harry meticulously joined the fractured halves together.
The rip fought back, resisting his attempts to mend the tear. It lashed out, pushing against Harry's efforts, threatening to overpower him. Waves of raw energy crashed over him, causing his will to falter and the threads woven, began to tear again.
Unimaginable pain ripped through his body, a searing agony that burned him from within. His soul screamed in protest, his consciousness aching under the strain. It felt as if he was being torn apart, his very essence unraveling in the face of this cosmic force.
Harry.
His eyes opened wide into the gaping maw of the cosmos.
Harry.
It was her voice.
Tears streamed down Daphne's cheeks as the vague humanoid figure that Harry had turned into began to crack.
The lightning had stopped. The volcanoes had gone silent. Only a thrum in the air remained. It was calm before the end.
"This is the end, innit?" Tracey said, her voice cracking and clear in the deafening silence that had fallen upon them.
Tom huffed, his wand hung loosely in his fingers. "Well, Albus, looks like we both lost in the end."
Dumbledore smiled in defeat as he watched, knowing that was all he could do, … at Daphne, fallen on her knees in front of what seemed to be Harry and the Source merged as one. And by the way the cracks were deepening across his body, he knew they had maybe a couple of minutes at best, till they were turned into fundamental particles of the universe. It was too late to run, it was impossible to resist.
"See you in another life, Tom," Dumbledore acknowledged.
Freya sighed as sat down on the ground. "It's been fun, Albus."
Moody and Flitwick looked at each other, their eyes conveying more than words could ever.
"It's okay, Harry," Daphne whispered. "It's okay to let go, Harry." She didn't care anymore if the world was ended or saved. She didn't care if she lived or died. She just wanted him to be okay.
.
.
.
Just as he was on the brink of surrender, his willpower waning, Daphne's voice pierced through the pain. Her voice cut through his fading consciousness, resonating deep within his soul. The sound, distant and distorted, revitalized his clarity. It was a lifeline, a reminder of something he wanted to protect.
In that moment he reached deeper within himself, drawing upon reserves of strength he didn't know he possessed. Raw power raged around him with an intensity that matched the raging storm beneath him.
With another guttural scream, he pushed every ounce of his being into the task at hand and the rift began to mend, the jagged edges smoothing out, sealing together without a scar.
Daphne's voice, distant, infused him with a strength he hadn't known possible. He could feel her, her belief in him.
As the final threads of magic wove their way through the tear, Harry felt an indescribable uplifting sensation surge through his veins. It was as if his very essence was being elevated and dissolved at the same time, atom by atom, disintegrating into the cosmic energy that surrounded him. He could feel his physical form fading away body becoming ethereal, lost to the eternal source.
His vision blurred, the world around him becoming a hazy mix of light and shadow. Each breath he took felt like a whispered echo, dissipating into the vast expanse of the universe.
Let go, Harry.
He couldn't tell who it was. Was it Daphne? Was it the Source? Was it the Guide? He couldn't tell.
With each passing moment, he became less tangible, his existence teetering on the edge of oblivion. He closed his eyes, surrendering to the disintegration, fully embracing his fate. The sensation was both terrifying and liberating… as if he was shedding his mortal self, transcending the boundaries of human existence.
As the rift finally closed, a blinding burst of blue energy erupted from the seam, illuminating the cosmos in a dazzling display. The force of it sent shockwaves through the fabric of reality, causing ripples to cascade across the universe. And in the midst of it all, Harry disappeared, becoming one with the boundless energy that gave life to the cosmos, his essence interwoven with the threads of creation. There was no longer a distinction between him and the universe; he was now a part of the eternal tapestry.
Outside the boundaries of Harry's transcendence, Daphne felt her consciousness shatter into fragments, consumed by a burst of blue light. The intensity of it overwhelmed her senses, and she lost consciousness, her mind plunging into a void of darkness as the apocalypse reached a crescendo.
The light burst forth from the realm of Atlantis, searing through the atmosphere like a supernova. Its brilliance was blinding, painting the entire world in an ethereal glow that pierced through closed eyelids, penetrating the souls of those who remained. A high frequency scream resounded in their ears, threatening to rupture their eardrums with its intensity.
The light enveloped everything in its path. It was as if an all-consuming death ray had been unleashed upon the world, the final light show before the end. The land quaked beneath them sending shockwaves through their bodies, rattling their bones.
Life that remained knew. They knew that this was the end. No words were spoken, there was no time for desperate cries for salvation. Instead, they faced the impending destruction with a somber acceptance, squinting against the light that scorched the skies.
Buildings crumbled to dust, reduced to mere memories of human ingenuity. Trees were uprooted, their branches twisted and broken, mountains trembled, their mighty peaks crumbling to the relentless forces of destruction.
As the blinding light and deafening noise intensified, the air grew heavy with the scent of sulfur and ash. It filled their nostrils, invading their senses and leaving a bitter taste of despair. The planet was suffocating under the cloud of its impending demise.
And then... the world fell silent.
.
.
.
To be continued...
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