The morning sun had barely crested the horizon when Harry finished packing the last of his belongings into the small trunk. His stay at Abyssal Maw had been fruitful—both in terms of what he had learned and what he had created. The laborers, guards, and overseers would now experience his genius long after his departure. As he glanced around the room one last time, Harry felt a sense of accomplishment.
Descending the stone steps, he found Terry Boot waiting for him by the camp's gate, arms crossed, looking out over the turbulent seas in the distance. As Harry approached, Terry turned, a faint smirk playing on his lips.
"Well, Potter," Terry said, extending a hand. "Looks like your work here is done."
Harry took his hand, shaking it firmly. "For now," he replied, his voice cool but respectful. "Abyssal Maw will leave an impression, but don't let your guard down."
"Never do," Terry said with a nod. He glanced back at the camp, then to the carriage waiting just outside the gate. "Zacharias is expecting you. He's got quite the operation at Hollowpoint."
"I'm sure I'll find it interesting," Harry said, his tone neutral but edged with curiosity.
The two men shared a final nod before Harry climbed into the carriage. As it rattled off into the distance, Terry watched until it disappeared beyond the cliffs. Harry turned his thoughts to his final destination—Hollowpoint.
Hours later, the carriage pulled up to the gates of Hollowpoint, a massive labor camp set amidst a desolate, rocky landscape. The camp sprawled across jagged terrain, with its towering structures blending into the stone, as though it had been carved from the very earth itself. The mining operations were evident from the moment Harry stepped out—the constant sound of pickaxes and the faint rumble of underground activity filled the air.
Waiting by the gates was Zacharias Smith, his arms crossed in a posture not unlike Terry's had been earlier. His blond hair was tousled, and his eyes glinted with an air of pride.
"Potter," Zacharias greeted, his voice as direct and brisk as ever. "Welcome to Hollowpoint."
"Smith," Harry replied, stepping forward and shaking his hand. "I see the camp's as industrious as ever."
Zacharias grinned. "Only way to keep things moving. We've made some improvements since you last heard about us. You'll see."
He led Harry through the gates and into the heart of Hollowpoint. Harry's sharp eyes scanned every detail as they walked—laborers hunched over in the heat, chipping away at rocks, while overseers barked orders from high platforms. Hollowpoint was as efficient as it was harsh, and the brutality of the work was apparent in the faces of the laborers.
"This way," Zacharias said, guiding Harry toward the central command building. "We've expanded the resource extraction efforts tenfold. Precious materials for the Dark Lord's cause. We've got the mines running at all hours. The underground shafts alone have grown twice as deep."
Harry nodded, impressed despite himself. "You've done well, Smith. It's more... integrated than I expected."
Zacharias shot him a sidelong glance. "You know, Potter, you're not the only one with ambition." There was no malice in his voice, only a recognition of shared goals.
As they reached the main hall, Zacharias led Harry inside to a large dining area. The table was already set for dinner—simple but hearty food laid out. The two men sat, and the conversation shifted, becoming less formal.
"You know," Zacharias began, leaning back in his chair, "I always thought you'd end up as an Auror or some hero. Never saw you becoming...this." He waved his hand, gesturing to Harry in his current role.
Harry gave a small smile. "Neither did I," he admitted. "But then the war changed things. We all had to adapt."
Zacharias chuckled darkly. "Isn't that the truth? When I think back to Hogwarts...well, I don't think any of us knew what we were getting into."
"No," Harry said quietly, his mind flickering back to those years. "But then again, those days seem like another lifetime now."
Zacharias nodded. "Still, I can't say I miss the naivety. We're where we are now because we saw what needed to be done. The others—they didn't have that vision."
"Vision," Harry echoed, his green eyes gleaming in the candlelight. "That's exactly what it takes."
They ate in silence for a while, the heavy atmosphere of Hollowpoint pressing in on them even indoors. After dinner, Zacharias stood and stretched. "I'll show you to your room. You'll need your rest—Hollowpoint runs at a different pace. Harder, faster."
Harry followed him down a narrow corridor until they reached a door near the end of the hall. Zacharias opened it and stepped aside.
"This will be your quarters while you're here. Simple, but it'll do the job."
Harry glanced around. The room was small but functional—just as he preferred. "It's perfect," he said, stepping inside.
Zacharias gave a final nod. "Get some sleep. Tomorrow, I'll give you the full tour, show you the mines and how we're keeping the laborers in line."
"Looking forward to it," Harry replied, his mind already turning to the possibilities Hollowpoint would offer.
As Zacharias closed the door behind him, Harry unpacked his things. He laid out his scrollbooks, quills, and ink, already considering the designs that might improve Hollowpoint's operations. Tomorrow, the real work would begin.
For now, he would rest. But not for long.
