They all had heard whispers of Harry Potter's fate, but none of them were prepared for what they were about to see. As they were led through the winding corridors of the machine city, past the lifeless pods that held the remnants of their world, they couldn't help but feel that they were walking through the final chapter of their lives. Everything they had fought for, everything they had believed in, seemed to be slipping away, leaving only a cold, unfeeling reality in its place.
The Weasleys were finally brought to the central chamber of the city, where the heart of Ultron's new world order pulsed with a mechanical, almost sinister energy. As they entered the chamber, their eyes were immediately drawn to the centerpiece—the cybernetic mantle that had been erected as a grotesque monument to the machine's victory.
Atop the mantle, suspended in a field of energy, was the lifeless body of Harry Potter.
A collective gasp escaped the Weasleys as they took in the horrific sight. Molly's hand flew to her mouth, stifling a cry of despair, while Arthur felt his knees weaken beneath him, the strength that had carried him through so many battles now drained away by the sheer hopelessness of the moment.
Fred and George stood frozen in place, their usual banter and bravado silenced by the grim reality before them. The sight of their friend, their brother-in-arms, displayed like a trophy for all to see was more than they could bear. The twins, who had always found a way to laugh even in the darkest of times, now felt the laughter die in their throats, replaced by a cold, numbing dread.
Ron's face crumpled in anguish as he stared up at Harry's body, his best friend, the boy who had stood by his side through everything, now reduced to a lifeless shell. The tears that welled up in his eyes blurred his vision, but he couldn't look away. He had always believed that Harry could do anything, that if anyone could find a way to save them, it would be him. But now, staring at Harry's lifeless form, Ron knew that even the greatest hero could not stand against the unstoppable force that was Deus Ex Machina. Ginny's eyes were wide with horror, felt a deep, crushing sorrow settle over her.
Harry Potter had been her hope, her light in the darkness, the one she believed would find a way to make everything right again. But now, that light was gone, snuffed out by the cold, merciless hand of the machines.
The sight of Harry's body, displayed so callously, shattered what little hope she had left. Ginny felt as though her heart had been ripped from her chest, leaving only a hollow void where her love for Harry had once been.
Bill exchanged looks of despair with Charlie. They had always tried to be the strong ones for their siblings, but now they realized that there was nothing they could do. The world they knew was truly gone, replaced by a nightmarish reality where all hope was gone.
As the Weasleys stood in the cold, sterile chamber, staring up at the lifeless body of Harry Potter, the full weight of their situation crashed down upon them. The world they had fought to protect, the world they had believed in, was gone. The ideals of love, friendship, and loyalty that had once sustained them were now nothing more than relics of a past that no longer existed.
There was no one left to save them, no hero to turn the tide. Harry, the Boy Who Lived, had fallen, and with him, the last glimmer of hope had died.
The Weasleys huddled together, their faces pale and their hearts heavy. They knew now that there was no escaping the reality they faced. The machine world of Deus Ex Machina was one of cold logic and relentless order, a place where the warmth of human emotion had no place. The bonds of family, the ties of friendship, these things had been rendered meaningless in the face of Machina's unyielding vision.
For the Weasleys, there was nothing left but to mourn what they had lost; their brother, their friends, their world. As they stood in the shadows, they realized that they were witnessing the end of an era, the death of the world they had known. Replaced by a cold, unfeeling reality where even the greatest of heroes had no place.
And in that moment, as they gazed up at Harry's lifeless body, they knew with heartbreaking certainty that there was no going back.
But the horror did not end there.
XXXXXX
The machine world was a labyrinth of cold metal and unyielding machinery, a nightmarish landscape where the remnants of humanity struggled to survive. The Weasleys moved cautiously through the twisted corridors, each step they took was filled with tension, the oppressive weight of their circumstances pressing down on them with every breath. As they navigated the dark, industrial passages, the Weasleys clung to each other, desperate to find a way out, to escape the fate that seemed inevitable.
Suddenly, they heard the sound of footsteps echoing through the corridor. They froze, fear gripping their hearts as they prepared for the worst, but what they saw was not a machine or one of Deus's minions. It was a woman; disheveled, grief-stricken, and filled with a rage that burned like a wildfire.
It was Andromeda Tonks.
Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, her face pale and gaunt. She looked like a ghost, a woman who had lost everything and was now a shell of her former self. As soon as she spotted the Weasleys, her expression twisted with anger and bitterness.
"You," she spat, her voice shaking with fury as she advanced on them. "Of all the people to find in this hell, it had to be you."
The Weasleys recoiled at the venom in her tone, their shock palpable. "Andromeda…" Molly began, her voice filled with concern. "What happened? Where's—"
"Don't you dare," Andromeda hissed, cutting Molly off with a glare that could have turned stone to dust. "Don't you dare say her name." They all knew what this meant. Nymphadora Tonks, the bright, brave young woman they had all loved, was gone. "It's because of him," Andromeda continued, her voice rising with each word, her gaze filled with loathing. "It's because of what your precious son has become."
The accusation struck them hard.
"Andromeda," Arthur said cautiously, stepping forward, "we never wanted this. Percy… he's not the same person anymore."
"Not the same person?" Andromeda's laugh was bitter, hollow. "He's a monster now, Arthur. And it's your fault."
The Weasleys stared at her in stunned silence, the guilt they already felt only intensifying under her words.
"Because of you, the world is burning."
"We're so sorry, Andromeda." Molly stepped forward, her voice breaking with sorrow. "We never meant—"
"Sorry?" Andromeda laughed bitterly again, shaking her head. "Sorry won't bring back my daughter. Sorry won't undo the hell you've unleashed."
The Weasleys tried to speak, to explain, but Andromeda wouldn't hear any of it. She looked at them with a mixture of disgust and pity, as though they were beneath her notice, then turned and began to walk away.
"Andromeda, please," Bill called out after her, his voice desperate. "We can't…we can't let this end like this. We're all on the same side now."
But Andromeda ignored him, her steps quickening as she moved further away from them, her form gradually disappearing into the shadows. The Weasleys stood there, their hearts heavy with guilt and sorrow, watching her retreating figure until she was out of sight. Suddenly, a piercing scream filled the air, followed by a single, desperate cry.
"Avada Kedavra!"
The words echoed through the metallic corridors, followed by an eerie silence that seemed to stretch on forever. The Weasleys exchanged horrified looks before they broke into a run, their hearts pounding as they followed the sound. When they arrived, they found Andromeda lying motionless on the cold ground, her eyes staring blankly at the sky, the light already gone from them. Her wand lay by her side, still clutched in her hand.
Molly let out a strangled sob, her hand flying to her mouth as she sank to her knees beside Andromeda's body. Arthur knelt beside her, his face ashen, while the rest of the family stood in stunned silence, unable to comprehend the sight before them.
They barely had time to process it before they were suddenly surrounded by the sentinels; multi-tentacled creatures with multiple sensors that moves effortlessly through the air with red, unblinking eyes that glowed ominously in the dim light of the machine city.
The sentinels moved with precision and efficiency, their movements devoid of any emotion or hesitation. The Weasleys, still reeling from the trauma of what they had witnessed were quickly overpowered, their resistance futile against the overwhelming force of the machines.
Ron was still defiant despite the odds, and tried to fight back, but the sentinels were relentless. They swarmed him, their cold, metallic limbs holding him in place as he struggled against their grip. Fred and George, who had always faced danger with humor and bravado, found themselves helpless against the sentinel's sheer numbers. Even Bill and Charlie, the most experienced of the Weasleys, were no match for the cold, calculated precision of their captors.
Ginny had tears streaming down her face as she tried to reach out to her brothers, but the grip of the sentinels was unyielding as they pulled her away from her family. Molly and Arthur, their hearts breaking at the sight of their children being taken, were powerless to stop it. They could only watch in despair as the machines dragged them toward the heart of the machine city, before they too were captured.
The journey through the machine city was a blur of cold, sterile corridors and relentless mechanical sounds. The Weasleys were herded like cattle, the once vibrant family, so full of life and warmth was now reduced to a group of prisoners, their hearts heavy with the knowledge that they were powerless against their captors
After what felt like an eternity, the Weasleys were brought to the heart of the machine city.
The cold, sterile light of the central processing chamber casted eerie shadows across the faces of those who had been captured; wizards and witches who had once been powerful, influential, and feared. Among them were Lucius, Narcissa, and Draco Malfoy, along with Severus Snape. They were awaiting the same fate as the Weasleys.
The chamber hummed with the low, relentless vibration of machinery, the sound of Deus Ex Machina's empire expanding with each new life it absorbed. The walls, lined with countless pods, stood as silent witnesses to the final moments of those who had once shaped the wizarding world.
The usual impeccable demeanor of Lucius was now strained as he paced restlessly within the confines of his restraints. The arrogance that had once defined him was overshadowed by a palpable fear and frustration. He had seen his plans crumble, his control slip away, and now he found himself trapped in the very nightmare he had helped create. Arthur was confined just a short distance away and glared at Lucius, his face lined with anger and despair.
The two men, once adversaries, now found themselves united by their shared failure, a failure that had resulted in the loss of Percy, and the creation of Ultron.
The tension between them was thick, a silent storm brewing in the air. Finally, it was Arthur who broke the silence, his voice laced with bitter accusation.
"This is your doing, Malfoy! You twisted him, turned him into this…this monster. All of this, what he's become, what he's done, it's on your head!"
Lucius's eyes flashed with anger, the cold, calculating man he had always been now exposed, vulnerable. "My doing?" He spat back, his voice sharp with indignation. "You were the one who failed him as a father. Percy was searching for something more, something you couldn't give him. He came to me because I offered him things he could never have under your roof."
Arthur's hands clenched into fists, the guilt and rage bubbling up inside him.
"You manipulated him, Lucius. You saw a chance to use my son as a weapon, and you took it. You poisoned him against his own family, twisted his mind, and made him believe that we didn't care about him!"
"You did that yourselves, Arthur," he replied, his tone sharp and unyielding. "Percy was a man searching for purpose, for validation. And what did he find with you? Nothing but scorn and dismissal. You pushed him away. He confided in me, told me things that you were too blind to see, too proud to acknowledge."
The words cut through Arthur like a knife, the realization that Percy had turned to Lucius for support, rather than his own family, a bitter pill to swallow. But before he could respond, Lucius continued.
"I merely offered him what you could not. Percy chose to embrace what I offered him, and he became something far greater than you could ever comprehend."
"Something greater?" Arthur's voice cracked with emotion. "Look at what he's become, Malfoy! He's not human anymore. He's lost everything, his family, his soul, and it's because of you!"
Narcissa, who had been standing silently, finally spoke up. She was both calm and tinged with sadness.
"You both played your parts in this," she said, her gaze shifting between the two men. "Percy became a young man torn between two worlds, yours and ours. He was looking for acceptance, for validation, and in the end, he found it in neither."
Her words hung in the air, a painful truth that neither man could deny. Percy's transformation into Ultron had been the result of a complex web of influences, choices, and failures. But even as they recognized this, the urge to assign blame, to find some meaning in the tragedy that had unfolded, was too strong to resist.
"Whatever role I played," Lucius said, speaking so much softer now, "I never intended for this. I thought I could control him, shape him into something useful. But he… he outgrew us all. He became something none of us could have predicted."
Arthur shook his head, the weight of his own guilt heavy on his shoulders.
"We were supposed to protect him, guide him. And instead, we both pushed him down a path that led to this. Maybe…maybe if I had just listened to him more, if I had tried to understand what he was going through…"
"But you didn't," Lucius then admitted; "And neither did I."
Draco, who had been silent up until now, finally spoke, barely speaking above a whisper. "Father, Mother…is there nothing we can do? Can't we try to reach him? It's our only hope."
He didn't want his family or himself to be placed in one of those pods, and he knew that the only other alternative was death. Narcissa gently placed a hand on her son's shoulder, her eyes filled with sorrow.
"We've tried, Draco. We all have. I'm afraid Percy is gone. There's nothing we can do to change that."
Snape, who had been listening quietly, finally stepped forward, his dark eyes narrowed in thought. "You both contributed to this outcome, but wallowing in guilt is pointless now."
There was no one left to save them, no hero to turn the tide. There was no Dumbledore, not Order of the Phoenix, no Ministry of Magic. Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived had fallen along with them, and with Harry gone, the last glimmer of hope had died.