Chapter 442: Horn of War

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21 June 1995, Hogwarts

Today was the day. Harry got up at the rise of dawn, making his preparations as if he were a man possessed. Despite the stakes, he wanted to convince himself that it was nothing more than a normal battle, a normal fight against Dumbledore's forces. After all, he'd had to do that more time than he liked to admit over the past year.

However, this was different. Luna had told him before she went to Greece, that it felt like the world held its breath, and he understood that now. Magic seemed to pulse brighter, like a heartbeat quickening, anticipating what was coming.

Today was the day the greatest prophecy would be fulfilled, one way or another. Today was the day, the most important battle in the history of magic would begin, and Atlantis' last legacy would perish. Thousands of years of war would end, in a single encounter. People would talk about this battle, probably for centuries, if there even were people.

Before Ragnarök, before the mess with Dumbledore and Grindelwald, before wars and prophecies, Harry had wanted nothing more than to be remembered. Death was a natural thing. One should not fear death, but the legacy they leave behind. Harry feared dying alone and forgotten as if he never even existed. He wanted a mark on the world. It didn't even have to be a big one, just to leave something behind. To be honest, just having someone that loved him, who would remember him, would have been enough. Sure, his name being echoed in greatness was an attractive prospect, but it all felt inconsequential compared to what he had with Daphne.

The blonde was up, helping with her preparations as well, her hands trembling slightly. She was nervous. He knew that deep down, but he refused to point it out. It was now too late to go back on the plan, despite wishing he never came up with the damn thing. She was probably as worried about him as he was about her.

As much as he liked to present a strong front, he was afraid too. Today, it could go hundreds of different ways, most of them terribly. Today was the day they would be last seen in the future, where their lives would be different forever, no matter the outcome of the war would be.

Harry had dozens of possible plans for their survival, but he knew perfectly well that plans rarely lasted long in a war, especially one like this one, and against opponents like Albus Dumbledore and Grindelwald.

As if she was sensing his distress, Daphne silently grabbed his hand and held it tightly. He reciprocated and he could feel the tension disappear from her shoulders. Despite the seriousness of the situation, she spoke up first with a joking tone, "If you ask if I'm sure again, I'm going to hex you. I'm already nervous as it is."

Harry snorted, "I learned my lesson after the fourth time you sent a hex at me. Besides, it's too late to back out now anyway. You'd probably be in more danger if we don't go with the plan, even without Fate pushing things along."

She squeezed his shoulder, "I'll be fine. We rehearsed the whole thing over a hundred times. They will not see it coming."

"Promise me you'll be careful," Harry asked, softly.

"I promise. Now, it's your turn."

Harry chuckled and pretended to be clueless, "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Stop being a prat and promise," the blonde complained.

"I promise that I'll be careful."

She relaxed slightly and he let her lean on his shoulder, "I can't believe that it's today. I know you kept talking about it for almost a year now, but it always felt like something remote, in the far distance. After today, everything will be different. The world will be different."

"Sometimes, more impactful events occur in a handful of hours, than in an entire decade. The tensions of this war, the preparations, and the motivations all began thousands of years ago. Now, we must deal with it, as unfortunate as it might be."

"But did it have to be you?" she murmured in a barely audible voice.

"Fate is not kind. It's funny, really, if Dumbledore hadn't made an enemy out of me, hadn't tried to get control over me and forced my hand, I would have never been in this position. I would have been content staying in this castle, probably unaware of the war between the Light and Dark. I would have been a scholar and not forced to fight them. Dumbledore and Grindelwald would likely not have had a lot of opposition to their plan. In a way, they created their own enemy out of hubris and paranoia."

"Then we'd have all died or been enslaved when their plan works," Daphne answered dryly, "Hardly a very nice outcome to this story."

Harry chuckled but didn't reply, instead, deciding to just enjoy Daphne's company while he could. Their time together was interrupted by a small tinkling bell ringing. He turned towards it and saw a piece of parchment in the shape of a rave. He took it and grumbled.

The blonde gave him a questioning look, "What is it?"

"Marinakis is now in the castle, he wants to meet at the arena."

Harry looked at his watch and saw that it was almost time for the task. Had time really passed this quickly? He gulped slightly and started to get up. Daphne gave him a sad while muttering, "I need to finish the regents for my blood ritual. I'm almost done. I'll meet you there."

He just nodded faintly and stared at her, doing his best to remember her face, the colour of her eyes, the shape of her nose, even the worried look. It was time.

Harry didn't answer her and just wrapped her in a very tight hug, "Remember your promise."

She returned it just as tightly, "Remember yours as well."

Looking at the look on her face, Harry couldn't help but kiss her. It was a desperate thing, one that seemed to stretch for an eternity. Both of them wanted to show the other how much they meant, knowing that this could be the last time for their attempt.

With a faint huff, they both eventually broke the kiss, gasping, and Harry whispered, "I love you."

"I love you too."

They stayed like that for a while, until Harry remembered the summons from Marinakis, got up, and reluctantly left his girlfriend with her own preparations for her side of the plan.

Harry grabbed the small pouch that had his own preparations and left the Hogwarts grounds silently. His bad mood must have shown on his face as no one even attempted to speak with him. As he neared the arena, he gave the castle one last glance. It was very unlikely he would ever come back again, and a part of him knew that he'd outgrown this place. He had unravelled its mysteries, gotten everything he could from the library, and even copied most of the tomes alongside a few from other schools as well – although he missed two of them as he was stuck in another universe, he'd get to them eventually.

"Quite the magnificent sight, isn't it?" a familiar voice spoke up.

Harry turned towards its source, "Alexander Marinakis, you asked to see me."

The man's blue eyes practically glowed in amusement, "The task is going to begin soon. I thought that you'd almost forgotten about the entire plan."

"I wish I could have," the young wizard muttered, "Is everything ready?"

"Yes. Our forces are ready. Vlad is coordinating with the Lycans, and the mercenaries are in a position to attack the fortress, with each group having a few ward breakers from the Department of Mysteries. They still don't know what they're fighting for, only that there would be a lot of vampires."

Harry hummed, "I don't think we'd have a lot of people left if we told them that we're going to fight Dumbledore and Grindelwald. A few of them are veterans of the Great War. They'd remember what it was like back then."

"You don't regret sending them off to fight without knowing what's ahead of them," Marinakis asked but it seemed out of curiosity than any form of criticism. What did he expect? This was the man who was planning on sacrificing his son to attack the Olympians.

He shook his head, "Their goal is to take care of the vampires, nothing more. If things go according to plan, we will be the ones to fight Dumbledore and Grindelwald."

"My dear boy, things rarely ever go according to plan in war. I should know given what happened to my school."

He hummed, agreeing with his point, but he had no other choice. Harry was powerful enough to deal with the vampires, yes, but it would take him time, something that he didn't exactly have. Everyone capable of doing that would be of more use fighting the two Champions, not their underlings. Honestly, the fight would probably end up with a lot of losses on both sides.

Instead of answering, he asked a question of his own, "Will you be able to hold your own against Dumbledore?"

The man snorted, "They don't call me the storm bringer for nothing, kid. Leave Dumbledore to me while to deal with whatever it is you're planning. But I still think that stopping the prophecy is a lost cause. Even with an entire department of researchers with access to all recorded prophecies in the country, you couldn't find out which one Dumbledore is planning on using."

"Stopping the prophecy from breaking would be very beneficial, but it's not the only reason to fight him here. There is no reason why I should use the magical release from the prophecy for my own ends as well. After all, it will have to be a very powerful one given the fact that it would have to make up for a lot of energy they lost when I intervened during Olympus' destruction."

The former headmaster's face turned grim for a fraction of a second before barking out a laugh, "You're planning on using their own ritual against them. Huh, very clever. But what could you possibly need so much energy for."

"Who am I to ruin the surprise?" Harry answered, not wanting to give away anything, "Let's just say that Dumbledore and Grindelwald are definitely not going to like it."

The old man chuckled at that, "Sure, keep your secrets," before turning towards the arena.

The last Potter found that it was a bit distasteful how the arena looked as if it belonged to a Medieval melee, with the ground being made of hard-packed dirt, with wooden barriers, reinforced with iron bands, enclosing the fighting grounds. They were sitting in high wooden stands, draped in banners of the competing schools.

A lot of people seemed to like it, and Harry could understand the appeal. The Middle Ages was Britain's magical golden age. Their mages were at their most powerful and magic was very heavily celebrated, where Camelot prospered. There was also the creation of Hogwarts, where, at the time, competitions like these were somewhat common.

Still, it all felt a bit too gladiatorial for Harry's tastes, and instead of enjoying it, he stared at the empty arena, ready for the inevitable start of the task, after which everything would change. Well, calling the arena empty wasn't exactly right. In the middle stood a tall stone pillar with a familiar sword being impaled on top of it.

Ascalon, Dumbledore's prize, and the reason people from all over the world even decided to come to the tournament, especially given how much of a fiasco the last task was. Honestly, interest somewhat waned after the task in Durmstrang, and Harry didn't think that a lot of people planned on coming to Britain given the instability they suffered through in the last couple of years. Alas, Albus Dumbledore found a way, like he somehow always did, to make things go in his favour.

And the way the sword was presented, like some kind of bastardized Excalibur, an obvious reference for Arthurian legends, just grated Harry the wrong way. They were leaning so badly on the Camelot theme they had going on, not caring that the legendary sword was stolen from the Fae in the first place, or of the legend's tragic end at Camlann.

Harry turned towards the high stands, where his former headmaster stood there, watching the sword impassively. He didn't look happy for some reason. He didn't look triumphant or smug, as he also dreaded that the task would begin. He was doing his best trying to stay away from Fudge who seemed to want to talk with anyone he could from outside of Britain. Maybe he hoped he could salvage his career by making some economic deal. It wouldn't matter. People were extremely tired of his promises, especially given that the general public blamed him for taking unnecessary risks by hosting two international events at once.

Slowly but surely, the stands started to get filled by both students and visitors. Harry saw the familiar figure of Daphne coming his way and sat on his left. He was about to speak until a loud horn broke the silence of the entire arena and McGonagall stood up, addressing the entire crowd.

Marinakis muttered, "Now it begins."

Harry shook his head and answered, "No, now it ends."

They were both right, in a way. The moment the task began, so would Ragnarök as well, and with it the end of an era, no matter what the outcome would be.

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AN: So, the final task is finally here. I'm so excited to finally write Ragnarök properly and I hope I did a good job with the lead-up. As usual, please let me know what you think and if you have any suggestions.

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If you want to support me check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr

I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions of them so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.

Thank you guys for your support in these hard times.