The Battle for the Source

The battle was unfolding at an exhilarating pace, a turbulence of light and shadow. Harry was plunged into the midst of this chaos, every ounce of his being focused on one single goal - to charge headfirst into the source. Every beat of his heart, every clench of his fist, every flex of his magic were driven by this innate impulse, drawn like a moth to a flame.

As he ascended into the smoky sky, he deftly maneuvered away from the deadly black flames Voldemort was launching at him and the rubble that Dumbledore was transfiguring into spears enchanted to track him and pierce him. Yet, even amidst this dangerous dance, his eyes locked onto what lay beneath the source.

When his gaze finally hit the sight, it nearly winded him, making his heart stutter and breath hitch in his throat. He was staring into the gaping maw of infinity, an ocean of galaxies and stars that should have been veiled. Swirls of nebulae bathed in starlight, myriad constellations scattered like diamond dust, the play of light and shadow creating an ethereal canvas that was almost painfully beautiful to behold.

This was the fabric that bound the universe, the quintessence of time and space, torn asunder right before his eyes. It was a rip in reality, a gaping wound that bled cosmic radiance, a sight as stunning as it was terrifying. To mend the seams was his mission, his responsibility. The daunting nature of it could have overwhelmed him but instead, it fueled his determination further.

Engulfed in the raging storm of assault, Harry found himself caught in the maw of defense. The vampires were a streak of lightning, their speed and agility a testament to their supernatural existence. Their swords slashing through the air, whispering a vow of death, each thunderous clash against his shield drew a mortal line he barely toed.

Hard on the heels of the vampire's whirlwind assault were Freya's lethal and precise bullets. Like deadly hornets, the projectiles ripped through the air, their high-velocity screams adding a chilling harmony to the already grim symphony of the battlefield.

Straining under the relentless onslaught, the deafening roar of the fiend fire, eerily reminiscent of the black dragon from the Badlands, echoed in his ears. The terrifying display of magic from Dumbledore and Voldemort dwarfed any magical feat he had witnessed before, their spells a raw exhibit of power.

The air around him vibrated with heat, an oppressive wall of warmth radiating from the spells. It was a force that sought to drive him away from the source, a palpable push against his resolve. Amidst the blinding flashes and the cascade of attacks, the world descended into a disorienting blur, a haze of radiant chaos where everything merged into a dazzling dance of light and shadow.

A surreal sensation of weightlessness washed over him as he was pushed away from the source, coupled with an adrenaline-fueled state of unyielding defense that was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was the thrill of the fight, a deadly dance with mortality.

Harry could feel sweat carving rivulets down his skin as he maintained the shield around him, holding it firm against the relentless onslaught. His magic coursed through it, feeding it with an unyielding will.

And then a moment of respite appeared. They seemed to have run out of their initial ferocity, their movements slowing as they rallied to mount a fresh attack.

Harry saw his opening and a dark grin unfurled across his face. 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 finger, he drew the rune of disintegration, each stroke sharp and purposeful. His thoughts were centered around this single rune, everything else fading into insignificance. As though he was channeling the very rage of the source, he infused his magic into the rune, an assertion of his will to survive and conquer.

Harry's grim smile widened as magic pulsed from him, a tangible wave that emanated with his fierce determination. The air around him was charged, the very ground beneath him trembling at the unleashing of his magic.

In the split second that the wave of destruction unfurled from Harry, the landscape transformed into a stage of devastation. Towers, once tall and regal, were abruptly subjected to an overpowering force, their formidable structures yielding to the violent pressure. They burst apart mightily, their expansive debris falling like heavy rain, reduced to impotent rubble.

Valerie, caught in the unexpected cataclysm, was stuck frozen, a deer in the blinding headlights of impending doom. She tried to mount a defense, to weave a protective ward with her sword but the brutal velocity of the magic beat her to it. A split second too late, her form was engulfed and she erupted in a shower of blood and remnants, her existence effaced in the blink of an eye.

Drake's horrified scream cut through the tumultuous noise, a raw and agonizing howl that tried to tear through the cacophony of disaster. But the sound was swallowed, lost amidst the ear-shattering symphony of shattering stones and resounding blast waves.

From the periphery of the impact zone, Freya was sent tumbling through the air as though swiped by an unseen giant hand. She managed to twist in mid-air, her eyes hardening as she gathered her magic around her in a protective cocoon, just in time to blunt the shockwave's brutish assault. She landed heavily, coated in dust and punctuated by debris, but alive.

Tom and Dumbledore, amidst the chaos, were brought to their knees, 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.

In the midst of this pandemonium, Harry's eyes were drawn to a region he hadn't considered while casting out the wave of destruction - the spot where Daphne was. Cold dread gripped him, his heart pumping in double time, each beat a panicked drum in his ears. Instinct propelled him, the world blurred as he hurtled towards her position.

Materializing with a loud crack, he snapped his wand in front, pouring all his focus into crafting a barrier. Magic surged from him like a tidal wave and formed an almost translucent dome around Daphne. The shield vibrated as the destructive wave hit, consuming the raw energy and protecting the occupants, including Daphne, Hermione, and Tracey, from the chaos.

"Harry," Daphne whispered in shock as he stood in front of them, breathing heavily.

"You need to get away, Daphne," Harry huffed and took a moment to catch his breath.

Drake, his senses clouded by Valerie's death, lunged towards Harry. His movements were swift and desperate, tainted with a fearful edge. As he closed in for a strike, his intention to sever Harry's lifeline was evident in his eyes, bright with anger and determination.

Yet, Harry's demeanor remained tranquil in the face of the imminent threat. His palms glowed with the potent power from within him, pooling in his hands as he prepared to intercept Drake's blade. The moment came, suspended in a dangerous sliver of time; the blade inched closer, its lethal promise glinting in the reflected light.

Smooth as liquid and equally as fast, Harry caught the blade between his magically infused palms, his grip steady against the cold metal. The spell-adjusted energy thrumming beneath his skin met with the blade, a standoff between opposing forces. No words were exchanged, yet the tension sliced through the air, as tangible as the blade trapped between them.

Without breaking the momentum, Harry twisted his other hand in a swift, downward arc. It moved with an unnatural precision that seemed to slow the passage of time. The air rippled under the force of his magical slash, creating a visible divide as the blade cut through.

Drake's body jolted, his eyes going wide in disbelief as he was bisected. The horrific spectacle unfolded before his fading gaze - his world splitting into a cataclysmic dichotomy. He crumpled to the ground, his immortal dreams laid to waste in the face of Harry's relentless assault.

With an almost apathetic ease, Harry flicked his fingers, slicing through the remaining thread tying Drake's head to his body. It tumbled free, bouncing on the rocky surface before rolling to a halt.

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 of Harry's might was etched deeply into their memories, a terrifying testament to the raw, unyielding power that pulsed within him.

"Hermione," Harry said calmly. "Drag her away if you have to. I can't promise you guys will survive this if you stay here any longer."

As if to prove his point, the ground beneath him began to tremble as he pulled at the Void. and his gaze settled on Tom, Dumbledore and Freya who stood between him and the source. They didn't attack, waiting for him to make a move, not wanting the girls to get caught in the crossfire.

"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 faster than the human eye could register, a sudden, sharp twinge shot through Daphne's neck, muddling her vision as consciousness slipped away from her. Harry had ensured her temporary slumber. "Leave, now!" he commanded Hermione resolutely as he strode towards the trio ahead.

"Dumbledore," Harry called out, his voice ringing loud. "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!"

Harry just stared, deadpan. Dumbledore's words meant nothing to him. Whether they were right or wrong didn't matter. This was a personal relationship between him and the Void. His life was centered around it right from the beginning. From the day he split his Aunt's neck from ear to ear and smashed his uncle from floor to ceiling. The day the Void had come for him, to save him from Hell. And he had emerged anew with the intimate touch of the Void.

It had then evolved. Leading him down the path of a Quest to find the Source. Unlock its mysteries. And unlock them he did. A fundamental cosmic power that bound the universe together. A humanity that thought they were bigger than that. That touching the source in the form of magic made them abuse the source. Tearing a hole in the fabric of space and time. And now here he was at the source of the wound. The Void had helped him in his darkest hours. And now it was his turn to save the Void. 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 here either go back in time, to the lynch pin and stop this from ever happening and turn the page toward a better future."

Harry blinked and his eyes narrowed for a split second, latching on to a word he heard.

"And what lynch pin would that be," he whispered in question.

Tom stepped forward. "The night Dumbledore gave you to the muggles." He said calmly.

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 smile softly. Perhaps his student had changed after all.

Harry processed his words. His voice, cold and soft with a hypotonic undertone that rang 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 monster.

Harry chuckled and then narrowed his eyes. 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."

"Who are you to decide what is and what isn't worthy of anything?" Freya cut in sharply.

Harry shrugged. "Fate is pulling our strings here. And I'm just her harbinger."

Harry began to 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 jump in and close 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. His heart hammered faster. 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 rune traps they had already 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.. 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 Daphne. Her smile, her wit, her determination. 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 wizard's wand turn bright, one dark green and the other an angry red.

"I'm sorry," 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 route 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 breath 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 rumbling sound of the earth being shattered apart by bolts of light thundered all around him. He couldn't hear the sound of his own thoughts.

Summoning every bit of willpower that he had and stood up with a groan and looked into the light of the source, its color blinding.

He reached out with the Void to touch the source, letting go of all his emotions, his dreams, his desires and surrendered.

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