New World

When Daphne awoke, her body felt heavy and drained.

She blinked her eyes, squinting against the bright light which turned into the sun beating down in the desert she had become accustomed to calling home.

She groaned and closed her eyes and rolled to her side.

"Fucck," she breathed. "I'm alive." The last minutes before she lost consciousness flashed before her eyes. An ethereal Harry, A world collapsing, Her emotions out of control.

"I'm alive," she repeated. Trying to make sense of it. Her body felt sore but unhurt. She pushed herself up, every movement slow and laboured, and sat on the soft sand, her palms sinking into the hot sand as she held herself up to get her bearings.

The Desert stretched on in every direction, the harsh sun beating down on her, the heat seeping into her bones. Her eyes scanned the endless expanse, a sea of shifting sands, looking for any sign of life. But there was nothing except the sounds of wind breaking the oppressive silence. As she rose, shaky and disoriented, she realised her world had shifted irrevocably. She was back in this deserted landscape, emotionally and mentally exhausted. A survivor, alone in a world that had known an apocalypse.

She stumbled forward, her steps unsteady and faltering, her body weighed down by exhaustion. Each breath felt like a struggle, her throat parched and dry.

Her world spun in dizzying circles as she wandered aimlessly, her energy drained to the brink of collapse. She began to wonder, had everything been a dream? Had she been wandering in the desert all this time? Hallucinating everything that had happened?

Just as delirium began to take over, she heard a sound in the distance. Out of place over the faint breeze flowing over the sands. A distinct chopping of rotors, growing louder with each passing second. Her heart leaped with a flicker of hope, and she forced herself to move faster, stumbling towards the source of the noise.

Suddenly the machine came into view from over the horizon, its blades slicing through the air with a relentless rhythm. It headed straight towards her, as if it knew where she was and hovered above the ground, kicking up a whirlwind of sand, as it settled on the soft ground a little distance away from her. Daphne waved her arms frantically, her voice barely a whisper as she called out for help.

The chopper's doors were flung open and a couple of men jumped out, clad in military gear. Strong arms reached out to her, pulling her into the safety of the aircraft. She collapsed into the seat, grateful for the respite from the brutal desert heat.

As the chopper lifted off, carrying her away from the vast expanse of sand, Daphne's eyes fluttered shut. Amid her exhaustion, a glimmer of hope flickered within her. She didn't know where she was going or what lay ahead, but in that moment, she knew that she had survived annihilation and the world was still intact.

Through the hot wind, they flew, as the landscape below gradually shifted from endless dunes to a makeshift settlement dotted with tents and makeshift structures.

As they descended, the chopper landed in the heart of the refugee camp, kicking up a cloud of dust. Daphne stepped out onto solid ground, her legs wobbly from exhaustion. She looked around, taking in the scene before her.

Large pale white tents were pitched haphazardly, forming a maze of homes between which hung tarps protecting against the desert heat. The air was filled with the scent of meals being prepared, a comforting aroma that mingled with the breeze. Children ran across, through the gaps between the tents as they played tag, their laughter echoing through the camp.

The men from the chopper, clad in uniform coloured to blend with the desert, strapped with weapons, faces clad with sunshades, balaclavas and helmets were saying something to her but it was all an incoherent buzz to her.

As she felt herself being guided through the camp, probably to the medical centre, she assumed, a realisation washed over her. The world was still intact. And more importantly, that distinct pressure of magic that had saturated the atmosphere was gone. Apart from the familiarity of the desert, the sadistic game they had been trapped in was over. Humanity had survived and the apocalypse had ended.

Daphne giggled.

Harry had won his battle. And it was left to her to deal with the aftermath… Again.

Only, this time… she was alone.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Time drifted on…

And a consciousness, trapped in a void. Unable to escape, unwilling to die, continued to exist.

There was no sound. No weight. No senses. And yet, it knew it existed, suspended in darkness, a consciousness adrift in an abyss.

Stripped of physical form and left to wander as a mere wisp of its former self, a desperate desire to retain some sense of who he once was remained an eternal battle with the void.

The emptiness gnawed at him, welcoming him to embrace oblivion, just as it had from the moment he had dived headfirst into the source, some eons ago.

But still, he fought against the pull of oblivion, clinging to the fragments of his identity as if they were flimsy lifelines in a vast ocean of nothingness.

Snippets of his past floated through his mind, tangled threads of joy, pain, love, and loss, taking away bits of his memories as they disappeared forever.

He stayed suspended between existence and annihilation with a stubborn refusal to let go and become one with the source. He clung to that feeling, pushing back against the suffocating void, determined to stay conscious.

So he fought. He fought against the biting cold that sometimes tore into him, urging him to surrender. He fought to hold on to those memories that defined him, to the vague dreams that once lit a roaring fire in his heart.

It might have been an eternity later, or perhaps mere seconds, but suddenly he felt something stir in him.

A sense of time, a tick that had long vanished.

He felt the resurgence of a flame within him. Starting out as a faint sensation… a flicker of warmth that ignited life in him like ambrosia.

He clung to it, desperately grasping at the sliver of hope that it offered.

The void around him seemed to shift, its darkness giving way to a faint light. A surge of energy surged through him, propelling him forward. It was as if he were being drawn towards something, pulled with a force he couldn't quite comprehend.

The medium around him blurred as he hurtled through the vacuum, hurtling towards an unknown destination. The sense of falling engulfed him, but instead of fear, there was exhilaration. He let go of all resistance, surrendering to the unknown once more, this time with hope emerging.

His body began to solidify with the descent, the formless void taking shape. He felt the weight of his physical form returning to him, a corporeal being once again. The pain of reforming washed over him, a jolt of agony coursing through his veins, but he persevered, clinging to the sensation, a clear sign of life.

The blurriness faded, and he felt himself hitting on solid ground. An immense wave of pain surged through his body, a reminder of his physical existence. As the darkness receded, a dim blue light bathed him, casting a faint glow on the walls of the room.

He let out a groan, the sound reverberating through him, a clear sign he had escaped hell. His voice once lost in the void, now echoed in the chamber, a firm marker of his return to the realm of the conscious.

His vision remained blurred, but it didn't dampen his rising spirit.

Instead, it elicited a burst of laughter that bubbled up from his chest. It was a sound that echoed with joy and relief, released at last from the prison of eternity.

He didn't need to fight anymore.

He could finally rest.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Years passed by after Harry's apocalypse had united humanity. Invisible boundaries that once needed tedious visas to crossover were a distant fiction. Humanity needed all hands on deck working together at the fastest possible pace to salvage their civilization and of course, Daphne got involved in the thick of things. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, it hadn't taken her long to shirk off her trauma, her loss, her pain, and forge ahead to rebuild the world… her world.

And now here she was, the Prime Minister of New Europe, leading the rapid redevelopment of civilization, headquartered at the former British Ministry of Magic.

Daphne sat in her office, her large oak desk; an organised stack of paperwork segregated region wise. Most of her days were now spent reading progress reports and signing off on resource allocations, trying to ensure that the development efforts were evenly distributed. Today, the focus was on the allocations of grain from Ukraine.

As she reviewed the papers, signed some, and rejected some with comments on why and what she expected, an alarm suddenly blared throughout the office. She put down her pen and quickly stood up, shifting gears from administrative duties to security measures.

A couple of stern faced men dressed in black suits walked into her office, their wands drawn.

"What's going on?" Daphne asked, calm but alert.

An unauthorised intrusion ma'am. In the abandoned wing."

"The abandoned wing?" Daphne frowned and then her eyes widened.

That was where the Department of Mysteries used to be. They had to seal it off because the enchantments that protected it were strong, lethal, undeciphered and the apocalypse had left many of them dangerously unpredictable. It was on her to-do list to have the curse-breaking division up and running to get that wing all sorted out. There were secrets there that were too valuable to leave to scavengers to steal. It was the very reason she had chosen to rebuild their HQ in the same place as the former ministry and not to mention the proximity to the resilient Elysium meant a small but thriving metropolitan city now existed around them with the boundaries of the desert being pushed back every single day.

"Orders, Ma'am?"

"Who's investigating?"

"Charlie."

Daphne nodded. "Let's go and see how he's doing then shall we?"

"Follow us, ma'am."

Daphne smirked and rolled her eyes as she walked out of her office and into the well-lit spacious burgundy carpet-tiled corridor heading towards the pearly white elevator doors at the end. The loyalty and obedience of her personal guards always amused her. She had told her head of security she had no need for guards but she had insisted. One could never be too careful was her motto. There were still disputes with Goblins to contend with. They had emerged like cockroaches once things had settled down and an agreement had been reached. What remained of Africa was theirs and a healthy trade partnership was beginning to take shape. Anarchists had also begun to grow in numbers.

One of the guards pressed his wand against the elevator door and it arrived with a gentle ding.

They walked in and the other guard cleared his throat. "Level Six."

The elevator began to descend.

-x-x-x-x-x-

Level Six - The Abandoned Wing.

Charlie and his team of agents hurriedly entered the abandoned section of the Ministry, their footsteps echoing through the empty corridors, seconds after the alarm had gone off. Their gazes scanned the dimly lit hallways as they headed towards the source of the alarm.

They were just in time to see the light seeping through the door of the room, said to control mysterious power, glow blue for a moment before the light faded.

"Isn't that the chamber that's supposed to be kept locked for all time?" One of the agents said quietly, his voice still echoing in the hallway.

"Yea," Charlie replied equally softly. "I remember Dumbledore talking about it when I was part of the Order of the Phoenix. He had seen it once and had felt overwhelmed by the power radiating out of the gaps in the door frame but now, he felt nothing. The mysterious power was gone.

With caution, they approached the door. Charlie waved his wand over the handle checking if it was safe and when nothing happened he slowly extended his arm, wrapping his palm over the knob and opened the door.

The room was empty save the motionless form of a naked unconscious man laying fetal on the ground.

The agents, five of them in total, exchanged glances with each other and without a word, one of them knelt down to check his pulse. "He's alive."

"Right, lift him up, let's take him to holding," Charlie commanded with a frown. The man looked awfully familiar. The man kneeling on the floor nodded and tapped his wand on the body, turning it weightless and levitated it horizontally four feet off the ground.

They floated the body through the dimly lit hallways, out of the abandoned wing and through the lifts to the security wing.

Finally, they reached the holding cells, and inside the white room, bright with harsh fluorescent lights, they dropped him into the steel chair in front of a steel table, his body slumping against the cold surface as soon as they let go of his arms.

Charlie flicked his wand and a grey light shimmered over the body and clothing, meant for prisoners, materialised over the body.

He then stepped outside and waited for Daphne. He knew she'd be on the way. He had worked with her long enough to know she'd want to be part of the action. Minutes later, the entrance door opened, and Daphne stepped into the corridor lined along the holding cells and headed towards the fourth one where her agents stood, waiting for her.

"What's going on Charlie?" she asked.

Charlie pointed towards the transparent glass that was just a wall from the inside. "We had an intruder in the most unexpected of places."

Daphne looked in and her eyes widened. It couldn't be, she thought in shock. His hair was the same, she'd recognise it from a mile away. His face was turned away from them, flat on the table but she knew who it was without even having to look.

Charlie saw her expression change to recognition. "You know him? He looks familiar to me too."

"I'm not sure," Daphne breathed, her mind working faster than the expansion of the universe and made a snap decision. "Everyone, leave. Charlie, you stay."

"Ma'am?" her personal guard questioned. "We can't leave you alone. Charlie is capable but we still don't know the threat level."

"It'll be fine," Daphne said in a no nonsense tone. "Charlie, open the door. Everyone else. Out."

The agents and her guards wanted to resist the order but gave in and left in a single file.

"Wake him up," she told Charlie once inside and the others had left.

"Yes, Ma'am," Charlie sighed and pointed his wand at the man. "Rennervate."

Both watched carefully as the man groaned and stirred.

His voice, though scratchy, stirred memories from the past in Daphne's mind, as he straightened up on the chair and looked around in confusion.

It was his eyes that gave him away. A deep emerald green that Daphne knew went synonymously with Harry Potter.

She let out a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding and Charlie gasped, as he too, recognized the man having had spent time with him ages ago at the Dragon Reserve. "Merlin's beard!"

Harry's vision swam into focus, adjusting to the bright light and he saw two figures, a man and a woman standing in front of him. How long had it been since he had seen a human?

It was the woman who drew his immediate attention. She exuded an air of authority, her grey and white pantsuit clung to her slim figure, her face, narrow, oval, with high cheekbones… She was beautiful. Long wisps of her blonde hair framed her dark eyes that held a shade of blue and the rest fell in waves over her shoulder and back.

His memory stirred. He knew those painted lips. He knew those calculating eyes. She had matured, time had passed, but he knew who she was.

"Daphne," he whispered. His voice sounded strange to him. Deeper, older. Had time passed for him too? How much time? He yearned to look in a mirror. He looked down at himself, clad in a dark grey shirt and pants. His body felt bigger. His left hand, which he remembered he had lost, was organic and intact. He realised his gouged out eye was back too. He felt good. He felt alive.

He looked back at Daphne with wonder as scattered memories began to graze the surface of his mind.

"You survived." Daphne said, her voice even, controlled. A stark contrast to the emotions she was feeling within. Her fingers twitched, just itching to slap him across his face but she controlled the impulse.

Harry stared at her. Just drinking in her image. She looked so good. It must have been years since he had fulfilled his Quest. Although to him, it felt like a faded distant memory. How long had it been for him? It must have been hundreds.

"I survived," Harry replied, his voice still raspy. "Can I get some water?"

Daphne nodded to Charlie and he flicked his wand, conjuring a glass jug of water with a glass beside it, on the gleaming steel table.

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Is it real?"

"Summoned, not conjured," Charlie said.

Harry nodded and poured half a glass of water and sipped at it slowly. "That feels great," he sighed, closing his eyes, relishing the taste of liquid life. He took a closer look at the man next to Daphne. He was a short man dressed in black robes, typical wizard garb and his hardened face and ginger hair rang a bell in his memories.

"It's Charlie. Charlie Weasley. I was your caretaker back when you were sent to the Dragon Reserve in Romania."

Ah, yes. Harry remembered. The man who rode dragons.

Daphne took a seat on the opposite side of the table, the legs of the cushioned chair screeching against the floor. Charlie joined her.

"So where have you been all this time?" Daphne asked, folding her arms, looking at him with a mild glare. She was having difficulty controlling the anger bubbling within her.

"Adrift," Harry replied, his eyes drifting far away. The void he was lost in weighing down on him, even though he had escaped, even though he felt relief, the terror of being a wisp of consciousness, forever on the brink of annihilation, sent a shiver down his spine.

Daphne and Charlie's eyes widened at the brief haunting look in his eyes.

"Hung on by a thread," he added. "Don't know how, but I did."

"Are.. are you okay?" Charlie asked. He didn't look like he was all there.

Harry blinked, the pair opposite him coming back into focus and he smiled wryly. "Fine. It's … just been a very long time."

"Do you remember what happened in Atlantis?" Daphne asked.

Charlie glanced at Daphne, he hadn't ever heard the full story. Just bits and pieces.

"Vaguely," Harry mumbled, the high from escaping ebbing away allowing fatigue to enter his bones.

"All I remember is that I succeeded."

"You did," Daphne acknowledged. "And what now?"

Harry laughed. "Now? I sleep without the fear of losing my consciousness.." His dry laugh turned into hacking coughs and he took a gulp of water.

"And after that?" Charlie pressed. "Any world domination plans… or crazy adventure plans … plans with insane collateral?"

Snippets from the past roused his memories. His Desert. His Quest. The collateral.

"I get it," he said softly, his eyes focusing on Charlie. "You're scared of me. Sacred of what I might do. Considering what I did. I get it. You want to put me behind bars or on trial, go ahead. All I have planned right now is a good night's sleep and…" he glanced at Daphne, "Perhaps a conversation."

Charlie glanced at Daphne. Her expression was stoic. He couldn't tell what she was thinking.

A moment later she closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She exhaled slowly and opened her eyes. "Let him rest, keep him under guard and…" she gestured around the room, "make this place … comfortable I guess."

"Yes, ma'am."

"I'll make a decision on what to do with him tomorrow," she said and stood up abruptly. She looked into Harry's eyes, her own, unreadable and then turned on her heel and walked out.

Charlie turned to look at Harry with raised eyebrows. "Care to tell me what that was about?"

"Some things can't be explained, Charlie," Harry said with a faint smile. "Can you tell me how long it's been? Since… you know."

"Eleven years."

"Huh, not bad."

Charlie just looked at Harry quizzically. He had so many questions and the Minister wasn't going to get away that easy without answering them. She better not leave without answering a few at least.

He drew his wand from his wrist holster and waved ribbons in the air and a silver dust sparkled out spreading around the room, falling on all the surfaces and the room transformed into a decent sleeping space; a bed with blankets tucked into one corner, the floor carpeted and a wash basin and commode with accessories, in the opposite corner combined with an L shaped translucent screen for privacy.

"Nice," Harry appreciated. He hadn't reached out to his magic since awakening. He didn't want to. He was not ready to test it. He felt rational. He felt sane. He didn't want that to change.

"Don't try to think about escaping. Magic has come a long way from what it was. The wards will keep you in."

"I'll try not to dream about it," Harry retorted mildly, with a roll of his eyes as he made straight for the bed, his intentions clear.

Charlie nodded and left, the door clicking shut and the lights dimmed.

"Perfect," Harry mumbled as he drew the blanket over him and let his head sink into the pillow. "Perfect," he whispered again as eyes drifted shut.

He was alive.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

After a brief conversation with the agents, Charlie walked out into the lobby and saw the Minister leaning against the wall, next to the exit. Her two bodyguards close-by. She had been waiting for him.

"Let's go to my office," she said and walked towards the lift, nodding to the staff who greeted her. The floor belonged to the security agents. It was a hexagonal shaped lobby with six doors each leading to a specific department.

She walked towards the large central lift, her guards pressing the buttons and silently they made their way to her office, where the guards stood outside and Daphne and Charlie sat opposite each other at her desk.

Daphne sighed and opened her bottom drawer, pulling out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. She poured a generous amount in both and pushed one towards Charlie.

"Fuck," she sighed and took a sip.

Charlie grinned. Amused in spite of the situation and took a sip himself before setting down the glass and looking at Daphne. "So what's the history, Daph?" he asked as the setting changed to casual.

"It was the end of the world, Charlie. We had a thing," she said, rolling her eyes. "It just feels … surreal now. What happened that day… the memory of it. It's like a fantasy. I thought he died at the end but here he is. He managed to survive."

"He looks a bit cuckoo if you ask me. Whatever happened to him. He's definitely not all there mentally. We should keep him confined under medical observation. Let them assess him and let us know if he belongs in the nuthouse."

Daphne scoffed. "He belonged in the nuthouse before as well." She chuckled, thinking back to Hogwarts. How stupid she had been. "Only back then, no one could put a leash on him. He was a loose cannon."

"And now….?" Charlie trailed off the question. He sensed a but coming.

"If he's sane and cooperative. We could use him. Give him his freedom and in exchange, resolve some of our… security issues."

"You mean Bellatrix?"

"To start with," Daphne said, holding her glass gingerly, her fingers around the rim, rolling the liquid within, before taking a deep sip. Her brain was working, planning. She'd deal with her emotions later.

Charlie pursed his lips, thinking over it. "That would be an ideal scenario if no one knew about it. Are we talking about covering this up or are we talking about taking it to the World Government."

"Keep it under wraps of course. For all we know it could be a shapeshifter. Just more anomalies in the Abandoned Wing which demands more funds to investigate," she said slyly.

"I don't know how you do it," Charlie replied with a chuckle.

"What, politics?"

"Yeah."

Daphne laughed. "We should be glad there's politics to deal with. It just means our civilization has made progress. We'll tell them eventually, once we've done a full assessment. And if there's a chance this goes to trial we need the most dangerous man on the planet compliant. Force will get us nowhere. Just leave him to me for now. Get him checked by medical and keep the circle small and sworn to secrecy unless otherwise instructed."

Charlie raised his glass acknowledging the orders and chugged the remains of his glass and let out a content sigh. "Good stuff."

"From the vaults of Rome," she said with a smirk. "A gift from our last conference of leaders."

"We should start investing in rebuilding vineyards," Charlie said with a chuckle before standing up. "Just be careful, Daphne. Don't take any unnecessary risks with him. Not now. We have enough on our plates to deal with."

Daphne nodded and the moment Charlie left, she locked and silenced the room with a flick of her finger and dropped her head on the table and groaned out loud. Seeing him after more than a decade had past brought back memories she had long buried deep in the vaults of her mind. Memories she often questioned if they had been real. She had been holding it together, but now, alone at last, she could let it all out.

She poured herself another drink, this time filling the glass to the brim. Getting drunk sounded like a perfectly sound line of reasoning to her.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Daphne woke up with a thumping headache. She groaned and shifted her cheeks against the warm oak table, feeling dried saliva coating her cheeks and her head thumping loudly as she realised that she had passed out in her office after drinking more than she should have.

"Oh Morgana," she moaned and she lifted her aching head, straightening her back into her chair, wincing as she opened her eyes. The memories of the previous night were still fresh in her mind, her thoughts still swirling around the reappearance of Harry and the possible consequences of his return in this delicate, post apocalyptic world. She had to handle this carefully.

With a sigh, she stood up and grimaced when her head spun. She held onto the edge of the table to regain her balance and then straightened out her clothes.

She reached for the eleven and a half inch long wand carved out of Holly with the core of a phoenix and tapped the tip of it on her arm, instantly making her feel like she had just taken a bath and her clothes felt like they were fresh out of the laundry and ironed.

"Wow," she gasped, feeling the spell rush over her. "Been a while since I've done that," she muttered as she stood up, the legs of her chair dragging on the floor, and headed towards a cabinet by the window, squinting against the bright sunlight streaming through the gaps in the curtain and pulling out a hangover cure.

She popped the cork open and gulped it down, wincing as the bitter taste ran down her throat and began to take effect.

Her headache began to recede and she sighed. What time was it? she wondered.

A quick glance at the clock above the door told her the night had passed and then some.

It was 11 in the morning.

Daphne's breath escaped in an exasperated sigh as urgency gnawed at her. Her eyes darted around her expansive office, taking in the disarray - papers that had been organised now scattered haphazardly over her desk, awaiting the prompt assistance of her diligent assistant for reforming order from chaos.

A large bookshelf dominated the wall behind her desk, filled with knowledge on governance, politics, survival, evolution.

She walked over to the window and looked out over the city of New London, the ministry now built over the foundations of what used to be called gringotts, and then the Tower of Elysium, and now converted into the headquarters for the government, with tunnels and buildings connecting it to the old Ministry for Magic, where Harry Potter had reappeared, and now locked in a cell in the Law Enforcement Wing.

She sighed, it was time to face another day, she said to herself, in her mind and turned away from the window, her destination set and opened the door and stepped out. Her assistant was sitting in the corridor chairs, waiting for her. "Ma'am, you've been locked in for a long time. Is everything all right?" he asked in concern.

"Nothing for you to worry about, Aster," she said dismissively. "Now, why don't you go to my office, sort out my papers, and organise my schedule? I have a private matter that I need to attend to."

"Err, yes ma'am?" Aster was confused. The Prime Minister had never once had a private matter to deal with. What was going on?

Daphne stepped into the lift, pressing the button leading to the floor of the department of Law enforcement. She tapped her foot on the steel floor of the elevator as it descended, her mind racing with thoughts and ideas on how best to tackle the situation. And no matter how much she thought she knew, there was only one inevitable outcome. As the lift shuddered to a halt and rang with a small ding and the doors opened into the lobby.

The office was bustling with activity. Dozens of men and women running from one corridor to the other, to one office to the other. They were busy, and Daphne, ignoring all of them, went straight for the detention wing. Charlie was there waiting for her.

"You took your time," he said with a smirk.

"I drank a bit more than I should have," Daphne replied with a roll of her eyes, and together they entered the detention wing to the cell that held Harry.

When they reached the cell through the large see-through mirror, they saw Harry, clad in the prison garb, sitting on the bed, his legs folded, back straight, eyes closed in a meditative posture. He looked calm, serene, and powerful. Both Daphne and Charlie could feel their skin tingling, his power, his magic expanding all around them. A small smile curled at the edges of Harry's lips, and he slowly opened his eyes and turned to look straight at them, even though he couldn't see them.

Charlie gulped. "Well, he looks more menacing now than he did 24 hours ago," he joked feebly.

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Let's go," she said, and they entered the room.

"Good morning, Harry," she greeted amicably. "I hope you had a nice sleep."

She snapped her fingers, and the room began to morph back into its original shape, the bed disappearing from beneath Harry, and he had to move quickly to avoid falling on his ass, nimbly standing up on his toes and rolling his eyes at her.

"That's childish," he murmured, and took a seat in the steel chair before the table. And just like the previous day, Daphne and Charlie slid into their chairs opposite him, Daphne intertwining her fingers, and placing them on the table, a strange smile on her face. She didn't know why she felt amused. Something about the situation made her think it was funny.

Charlie glanced between both of them. Their eyes were locked on each other. He could tell there was some serious history between them. He decided it was best to stay quiet and let them do all the talking.

"So, Harry," she said, "Where have you been? How did you survive? Is your mind a little bit more coherent now to speak rationally?" She asked.

"I survived," Harry replied mildly. "And now I am back. Apparently time has moved on. My body seems to be in good shape, better than it was before, keeping up with time for some reason. And you've changed as well."

He smirked, eyeing her up and down appreciatively. "You look beautiful," he said.

Daphne felt her heart flutter at his voice, his words, but her will was steel. "Thank you, Harry. I hear it almost every day," she retorted. "Now, coming back to you. You might have saved the world from complete annihilation, which was probably your doing anyway, and even to this day, you are probably the most wanted criminal on this planet. Of course, assumed dead.

There's only stories and legends about you now. The evil monster who brought our world to the brink of destruction before he was vanquished by the great Albus Dumbledore and Tom Riddle, united. And if the public finds out about you and sees you in the flesh, it would invoke either a tale of reconciliation or one of bloodthirsty justice. And I think, knowing you, you wouldn't want to deal with any of that. You want to be on your own, figure things out in your own way, away from human interaction. So I have a proposal for you." She paused, her eyes locked on his, waiting for a response.

Harry raised an eyebrow. He processed her words. She was making sense. There was nothing to say. "Go on," he said softly, waiting for her to get to her point.

"There's a lot of unwanted activity still in this world that needs to be stopped, that needs to be controlled. You could be the perfect weapon that we need. What do you say? You will have your freedom, but you will do exactly as I say. And when I say, no matter how, whether you like it or you don't, I am the law. Are you agreeable to these terms?"

Harry could see the steel in her eyes, the will of her voice. She was no longer the young woman that he vaguely remembered being in love with. This was a woman of power. In this new world.

"Sounds reasonable," Harry said slowly. "I guess it could be an interesting way of exploring the world, seeing the things that have changed. And tell me what has changed. What happened? Do you mind filling in the gap between then and now?"

"It hasn't been easy, Harry," Daphne said, her voice tightening a bit. "The planet was in chaos in the aftermath, people continued to die. Diseases were spreading. Nuclear reactors were fucking melting down. Society was crumbling. But there was one thing that saved us all. Magic blossomed across the planet. People started gaining magical abilities, manifesting in different ways. And with a unified global will to survive an apocalypse. Humanity united, rebuilding the world even better, even while continents collapsed and nature wreaked havoc. But when we did stabilise, and with so many people around the planet awakening magical powers…"

She took a breath and sighed. "Humanity is not without its own eternal curse, Harry. Humans behave as humans always do. We love, we hate, we create, we destroy. And time marches on. It's just a different landscape now, with fewer people and most just trying to survive, to rebuild a better place, a better world. And I need to eliminate anyone who is a threat to our global peace."

She looked into his eyes, as if she was looking deep into his soul.

Harry could see raw emotion behind her beautiful blue eyes.

"And not to mention, you owe me."

Harry took a moment to collect his thoughts and sighed. She was right. Emotion surged within him. She had been the voice that had saved him from the void. His eyes softened as he smiled and said. "Alright."

Daphne let out a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding. Her eyes brightened almost fleetingly but Harry could see the joy beneath them no matter how hard she tried to hide it.

"Good," she said, the steel in her voice softening. She then promptly stood up. "Charlie," she said, turning to her Head of Security. "Set him up in a secure flat in the city with a new identity. You can fill him in on the state of world affairs while you're at it."

"Yes, ma'am," Charlie replied, still attempting to process the hidden layers of communication that had just taken place before him.

"See you later, Harry," she said and winked at him and walked out of the cell.

Harry and Charlie looked at each other bemused. "Has she always been like this?" Charlie asked suddenly. Popping out the first question in his head.

Harry just smirked. "She always knew how to get what she wanted. Seems like she's gotten much better at it."

Charlie hummed. Thinking to himself. So, not much had changed. "Well," he said, standing up. "Let's get you to some better living space. Can I trust you'll behave yourself?"

Harry just stared at Charlie deadpan.

"Ok then," Charlie continued. "Follow me."

Harry followed quietly. Content to watch, content to learn. There was no hard and fast decision in his head. For now, he was just ... content.

But he could sense it. Deep within him. A new journey, a new Quest awaited him.

Behind Charlie's back, as they walked to the back of the corridor, where there was a isolated floo network, Harry smiled, a small smile, the Void already feeling like a faint memory, as excitement and anticipation built inside him.

He could not wait to get out in the open and see how the world had survived his apocalypse and wondered would they survive it if he tried again.

Harry chuckled under his breath softly and Charlie felt a chill run down his spine.

Without stopping he shot a quick glance at Harry and saw nothing out of the ordinary except for that creepy smile he was sporting. He turned back in front. This was either going to be a blessing or a curse. Only time would tell.