Harry tossed and turned, sleep evading him for the first time since the night he defeated Morgana. A million thoughts raced through his mind all at once. His parents, Stephen, Ron and Hermione, Dragonfang… all of them were fading… vanishing… falling into an endless white void, falling, falling, into dots, then specks… then nothing.

He screamed.


"You sensed it too?" Stephen didn't turn, the cloak bidding Harry closer to the spinning runes and mandala. Sparks of brilliant orange scattered around, their directions not following the laws of physics as they flew about. Wong and Hamir were there too, their usually stoic faces creased with trouble.

"What… what's going on?" Harry's comprehension of the ancient runes, while imperfect, had progressed enough for him to understand that something was seriously wrong with the world.

"Something is seriously wrong with the world." Wong declared, rubbing his knuckles with his thumb, causing Harry to look in his direction and nod grimly.

"Ancient mystical sites are disappearing. Hamir made an intricate gesture, a sparking orange globe of Earth appearing before them. It spun around and zoomed into the southeast of England.

"Stonehenge…"

Where once stood the ancient stone circle, there was now merely a clearing, surrounded in police tape. A flick of the wrist, the globe spun to Malaysia.

"Angkor Wat…"

The holy city, now a ruin of cobbles.

"The mountains Sinai and Olympus," Two windows appeared, revealing the two great holy mountains erupted into volcanoes, spewing forth smoke and liquid hot magma.

"We've had reports that K'un-L'un and Ta Lo have similarly vanished." Stephen muttered, his injured hands shaking more violently than Harry had ever seen before. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when he saw a bead of sweat trickling down his master's cheek. Stephen was struggling… with such a simple spell?

"Do… do we know what's causing this?" He asked, voice shaking as his eyes dart against the images from the globe, "Maybe we can stop it. I can contact Professor Dumbledore, maybe he can help us-"

"I already am, dear boy," a familiar aged voice spoke out from the corner of the room. Harry turned, eyes widening slightly.

"Professor? You're here?" Dumbledore nodded gravely, the twinkle in his eye uncharacteristically absent.

"I'm afraid so, Harry. This event isn't limited to your sorceric plane. The Wizarding World is feeling these effects also. The protective spells guarding Hogwarts have waned. Ilvermorny has already fallen. I suspected that it would be the first, such a young school, so little time has passed through its walls to strengthen the enchantments." Dumbledore rose with a groan, and for the first time Harry saw how old his headmaster truly was.

"I don't understand. How can this be happening?!" Harry's voice cracked as he spoke, his shield of confidence cracking.

Stephen's breathing had become laboured. Harry looked around and saw that Wong and Hamir were similarly struggling. Their constructs sparked, flickered… and shattered. They gasped, exhaustion showing on all of their faces.

"Magic… is dying…" Stephen said between deep lungfuls of air.

"That doesn't make sense. How can magic be dying?" There was a hint of desperation in his tone, a kind of disbelief that this was actually happening and not just some nightmare. "And if it really is, how are we all still here?"

"We don't know, my boy. There are no books or scriptures telling of anything like this happening before. I assure you, we are not standing idly by. The Wizarding world will not let magic die without a fight. Minister Fudge has granted me control of the full might of the Aurors to combat this evil, despite my protestations," Dumbledore chuckled, before his laughter dissolved into a coughing fit.

"Professor!" Harry ran over to him, accompanied by the exhausted Strange and Wong, panic written all over his face.

"I'm fine, Harry. I have strength enough." He smiled weakly at the young sorcerer. "The magic that gives wizards their long lives is fading too. My dear friend Nicolas Flamel has passed, as have many of my old friends," a curious look suddenly came over Dumbledore. He drew his wand and pointed it at Harry. Stephen took a step forward, but it was too late. Dumbledore's wand glowed for a moment, the light spluttering. "Curious. Well apparently some good news to come from this; Voldemort is dead. It appears his horcruxes could not survive this event,"

"Just… just like that?" Harry could hardly believe the words coming out of his headmaster's mouth. "That's so…" he couldn't utter the word on his lips, for the shame it brought him.

Anticlimactic.

"So what do w-"

Harry was cut off by a loud VOOOM, as the ceiling of the Sanctum Santorum caved in, a cylinder of rainbow light pouring down into the chamber. Harry drew Dragonfang, for the moment not noticing how the usual hmm he felt when summoning the blade was absent. The light and smoke cleared, revealing a dishevelled looking man with long dirty blond hair, black leather armour, and a tattered red cape.

"Thor!"

All the magicians lowered their weapons, relieved to not be facing a battle.

"My friends, you must help me. The Nine Realms are falling into chaos. The Yggdrasil itself is unweaving. Asgard… Asgard has fallen. My father… has been slain. My mother and brother vanished before my eyes."

Stephen and Dumbledore looked pensive at the news. "If this has reached Asgard, we don't have much time." Wong gathered his strength and drew a sling portal. "I will muster the full might of Kamar-Taj before-"

"Before what?" a new voice. Cold, deep, and almost bored. Everyone turned to face its source, as the colour drained from Thor's face.

"You!" the god of Thunder leapt at this new adversary, robed in all white with his face obscured. The figure lazily raised a hand, stopping Thor mid-air.

"That didn't work last time, why would it work now? You know what? I'm done with you." He flicked his wrist, white tendrils appearing from his veins. They crept down his arm, reaching out to Thor, who's rage had subsided into absolute terror.

"STOP!" Harry leapt forward, bringing Dragonfang down to slice the wrappings in twain. The blade met the bright white tendril… and was consumed, as the light grew around it like vines, over and over and over until no sign of the blade was left. The tentacles loosened, revealing nothing but air where Harry's relic had once been.

"Pathetic. To think I ever thought you were credible." The figure drawled. He tapped his foot on the ground, sending the boy who lived careening into his masters. "As for you," he turned his attention back to Thor. "You came from nothing. Return to it,"

Thor screamed, as he was engulfed by the all-consuming light of destruction. By the time Harry came to his feet, the god was already gone.

"Why? Why are you doing this?" Harry cried, covered in dust and debris.

"Not now. When this reality is less than dust, and there is no more of your story to tell, then you will learn why," The figure swept his cloak, folding in on himself, disappearing into thin air.

All they were met with now was silence.


"There has to be something!" Harry raced through the library, pulling tomes and scrolls off the shelves. Anything. Anything that could offer even a sliver of hope. He had even opened the Darkhold, perhaps there was something within, some dark magicks that could help.

"The book of the Vishanti is gone." Stephen appeared through a sling portal, looking worse for wear.

"FUCK!" Harry exploded, fists slamming into the ground, the tiles scattering to dust. Nobody chastised the 12 year old for cursing.

"There is only one path with hope." Dumbledore sighed, shutting a crumbling book written by some sorcerer from ages past. "A direct assault against our mysterious enemy."

Wong sighed, holding his head in his hands. "That will only work if we know where he plans to attack next. We don't even know who he is."

"He doesn't fit the description of any known entity of that kind of power," Hamir slid across 'The Book Of Gods and Demons'. "The Watcher, Kang, The Living Tribunal. The closest would be the Avatar of Khonshu, but we've received word that Misters Spector, Grant and Lockley have been taken,"

Harry paced the room, racking his terrified brain. "Where hasn't he hit yet? Somewhere magically powerful, an outlier compared to other targets?"

Dumbledore put his wand to his temple, shutting his eyes tight. "Hogwarts still stands. The other schools have fallen, Hogwarts should have been taken by now."

Hogwarts? Why? What was so special about his school? It wasn't the oldest magic school, or the biggest.

Hogwarts…

The Sanctum Santorum…

When there is no more of your story left to tell, then you will learn why…

"It's me," Harry whispered in horror. "This is all about me,"

Stephen tutted. "Harry while I appreciate the confidence now is not the time for-"

"No, listen, it's me! My sanctum, my school, my story! This sicko is leaving the places important to me for the last!" Harry wrenched forth a world map marking the places that had lost their magic.

"See? Everywhere is feeling this. Egypt, Russia, South America, The Hong Kong sanctum, apparently Hell's connection to Florida is gone! But look at where nothing's been hit yet," sure enough, there were three distinctly blank areas; New York, London, and Hogsmeade. "These are all places significant to me. My home, my school, Diagon Alley. If we want to beat this guy, we need to wait for him to get there,"

"What about everywhere else? There's still places of magical significance that are yet to be destroyed, what will happen to them?" Dumbledore pressed, already knowing what the boy's answer would be.

Harry closed his eyes in resignation. "We just have to hope that whatever he's done can be undone."


Harry never thought he'd see this day. Hundreds of sorcerers, thousands of wizards, all gathered here, in one place, Hogwarts, to make their final stand, as the world crumbled around them.

The courtyard was silent. The fear, dread, anticipation of this potentially omnipotent destruction coming for them had stolen the words of every brave soul present.

He hated to admit that it excited him.

Stephen and Dumbledore were whispering hurriedly across the courtyard. Harry came over to them looking worried. Dumbledore smiled as he saw the boy approach. "My boy, how are you?"

"Good, I'm really good, I'm… absolutely terrified," he hung his head, hand reaching for where Dragonfang used to be.

"As are we all, Harry. But fear proves we're alive. For the dead have nothing to fear," Dumbledore coughed again, but held up a staying hand to Harry. "Don't worry about me. I'll fight to my last," the old wizard straightened up, his eyes sparking with magical lightning. "There's still some power left in these old bones,"

"And I should hope so too," that familiar voice boomed, storm clouds gathering around Hogwarts Castle. Thunder rumbled, the wind changed, and the clouds began to swirl together, a tornado forming in the sky. From the whirlwind, the white cloaked figure flew into view, arms outstretched in a mockingly open stance. "Otherwise this would be incredibly dull,"

In unison, thousands of magicians brought forth their weapons. Wands, mandalas, relics, all raised and aimed at their foe. Harry dropped into an offensive stance, his wand in one hand, magic swirling around the other. "I don't know what you want with me, but it stops here. You undo what you've done and go back to where you came from! I won't let you destroy everything and everyone as long as-"

"Yes yes yes, 'the line must be drawn here, this far no further' and all that heroic trite. At what point do you stop talking and start fighting?" the man sighed, folding his arms.

Harry roared, leaping into the air, surrounded by a storm of spells and sorcery. He could've sworn that he saw the man's eyes widen as he was struck by thousands of attacks at once. Harry leapt from mandala to debris, punching, kicking, cursing, transfiguring, using every tool at his disposal in a bloody fury. He yelled, his fist aimed for the man's hooded face. Flesh met flesh as his fist was caught.

"Is that all?" The man threw Harry back to the ground and grunted, a sphere of cosmic light erupting from him, destroying the constructs and spells. "I'm disappointed. This is exactly why your fate is as such. You are nothing. You are a bore, a labour, and I am through with you," the man curled his fists, a fiery aura exploding around him. "Let me show you what I'm really capable of!"

Harry watched on in horror as the cloaked figure shot to the ground. His white tentacles wrapped around a dozen aurors, entering their minds and turning them on their allies. The aurors pointed their wands on a singular point, pouring every ounce of their magic into it. Their bodies withered and crumbled, as the point of space began to shatter, the shards reflecting the world around it. The man thrust his arm into the biggest shard, his fist breaking through the clouds above, hundreds of times larger, to come crashing down on a hundred sorcerers.

Dumbledore and Stephen summoned demons and dragons, Hamir and Wong leapt from place to place, tossing sling portals and mandalas to catch the injured sorcerers, but to no avail, the bodies dissipated into white mist before they could be saved. Harry began an intricate movement, a meteor appearing in the sky which crashed into the fist. The man reeled in pain, a drop of blood falling from his hand. He looked at the wound, then at Harry, a smirk appearing on the otherwise featureless face.

"All that for a drop of blood?" he laughed at a joke Harry did not understand. "Let me show you the fruits of your labours," He snapped his fingers.

The crimson droplet plinked onto the ground with a ringing sound, before reality itself imploded around it, with its impact point at the center of it all. A vortex of red that became darker at its core began to grow, dragging those unfortunate enough to be near it into its maw. It grew, grew as it devoured and swirled. It took in everything, from people to matter to the air itself. And despite the wind it caused on its outer edge… there was naught but silence in its core. Harry cast a spell to anchor himself to the ground, as did Stephen and Wong. Hamir wasn't so lucky. The battle had already taken such a toll on him. His spell flickered, spluttered, and failed. He was pulled past the event horizon, and into the void beyond.

Harry gasped as his anchor turned to chains that coiled around him. The man's hand curled into a talon, constricting him. "I've had enough. You hear me? I have had enough. You are going to sit and watch as I end your story here and now,"

He rose into the air, not even bothering to deflect the remaining spells coming his way. He raised his arms, a tsunami of white nothingness coming over the horizon. Every caster still standing raised their strongest shields, pouring everything they had into defending this castle; their home. Many were consumed by their attempts, their life forces strengthening the spell. The wave crashed into the barrier, eating away at it, but holding.

"Looks like - ngh - you underestimated us," Harry choked, coughing up blood.

"Don't be so sure,"

The man flicked his wrist, turning Harry in his chains to see Stephen and Dumbledore. Wong's robes lay in a smouldering pile on the ground. Stephen and Dumbledore, the two most powerful magicians Harry knew, were on their knees, ageing years every second, as they borrowed power from their past and future. Stephen locked eyes with Harry, and shook his head solemnly. His mouth moved, but Harry couldn't hear anything over his own screams. Tears fell from Stephen's eyes as his and Dumbledore's bodies were consumed by their magic. Harry looked around. They were the last. It was only him left.

"Say goodbye, Master Potter," the man whispered. Harry watched as the shield cracked before shattering, the white void spilling over Hogwarts, consuming him and everything he knew.


He opened his eyes. Nothing sure looked a lot more like a cream ceiling than he expected. Harry pulled himself into a sitting position and looked around. He was in a bedroom, but not his own. He saw a double bed with grey sheets, a canvas of the New York City skyline hanging over it. By the window, he saw a bookshelf filled with stories, some of which he'd never heard of. By that, a desk, and a figure sitting at it, hunched over a laptop.

"So, you're finally awake," the figure said, and Harry leapt up, recognising the voice of the monster that had just destroyed everything he held dear. He summoned a mandala… to no effect. "That won't work anymore. The magic's gone, I'm sorry,"

This was strange. He sounded truly remorseful.

He had a million questions. Where was he? Who were they? "...why?" was all he could muster. The man waved him over.

"Look at the screen," he said, clicking onto a browser. Harry raised an eyebrow at what he saw.

Master Potter of Kamar-Taj, By: Ryuko Monogatari

"This… is your life. A story I wrote as a lonely teenager. I took two things I loved and mashed them together, like a kid making Barbie and Optimus Prime fight," he chuckled. "Ignore the dumbass account name, I was a stupid kid. Real name's Kin."

"You wrote… fanfiction about my life?" Harry enunciated slowly, hoping doing so would make this all make more sense.

I laughed. "No. You are the fanfiction. Look, where I'm from, you never met Dr Strange. Totally different worlds. You grew up with the Dursleys, met Hagrid on your 11th birthday, and went to Hogwarts. Meanwhile Stephen didn't become sorcerer until like 2016,"

Harry's head was spinning. "So… I'm not real? None of it mattered?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Of course you're not real! But why does that mean that none of it mattered?" I zoomed in at the top of the webpage. "See that? Nearly 3500 favourites, nearly 5000 followers, over 1000 reviews, someone made a TVtropes page about us! Look, that's all just numbers at the end of the day, but I like to think about it like this; each of those digits is someone who enjoyed you, enjoyed what I wrote. Maybe we made their day a little better. I hope we did. That matters,"

Harry clasped his hands together. "I guess so. But why destroy everything?"

I sighed, leaning back in my chair. "I'm tired, kiddo. I work a full time job, I run 2 D&D campaigns, I'm getting married, there was a worldwide pandemic, and it's all just weighing on me. I loved writing you, I met my best friend writing you.

"Dat me!" A sphinx poked her head into my window.

"Not now, Oni, I'm doing a meta 4th wall breaking goodbye!" I chuckled as she flew off. "But yeah, after a while, writing became less of a joy and more of a job. I haven't written anything of substance in 2 years. I've moved on. I'm sorry, Harry, but I had to,"

To his credit, Harry was taking all this remarkably well. "OK, I guess I get that, but why go around destroying everything? Asgard, Babylon, Stephen?"

I blushed. "Well as to that… Most of the time when a fic ends, people just put some bold text explaining why they stopped. I wanted the final chapter to be something interesting, well, as interesting as I'd be able to write. Plus… I just wanted the chance to play a villain,"

He laughed. And so did I. It felt good to relax for a bit.

Harry caught his breath and sighed. "So… what now?" he asked, looking up at me.

"Now?" I waved my hand, making Harry vanish into nothingness. I turned to face you, the you that is reading the end of this story.

Now I say thank you to everyone who supported this silly little story of mine. I know this ending is probably pretentious as all hell and definitely self-aggrandizing, but please bear with me. This'll be my last post on this website so I'm going to make it as self-important as I please XD.

I am so thankful to everyone who reviewed, favourited and followed this story, and I'm so sorry that I'm not able to finish it. I really wanted to play this out, see where it went, but real life won. My creativity has been tapped, and all my time is taken up aside. Writing this story was a real joy, and reading y'alls reviews was (for the most part) insanely fun. I still can't believe that I was able to write something that got the attention of so many of you. I hope you all find new stories to enjoy. Here's to hoping that they're written by someone who can actually finish what they started.

Cheers.