Harry Potter: The Last Exodus

Bridging Worlds

The sun was barely rising, casting a dim, grey light over the windows of 12 Grimmauld Place. Harry sat at the kitchen table, staring at the cup of tea in front of him. His mind was still spinning with the discovery he had made the night before. The old, leather-bound book lay open on the table beside him, its pages filled with knowledge that felt like it had been waiting for him to find it.

He had barely slept. His thoughts had been consumed by Zenithara—the lost galaxy of ancient magic, untouched by the decay slowly creeping through their world. It seemed impossible, too good to be true, yet the details were there, vivid and clear in the text. Now he needed help. He couldn't do this alone.

His first instinct had been to reach out to Ron and Hermione, but a part of him hesitated. Their reluctance to acknowledge the worsening situation gnawed at him. He needed people who would understand the urgency, who wouldn't hesitate to take risks if it meant saving what was left of their magical world.

Which was why, moments later, Harry found himself holding his wand to his throat and murmuring, "Sonorus."

"Luna. Draco. I need you both at Grimmauld Place. It's urgent," Harry said, his voice resonating through the spell.

By mid-morning, the familiar pop of apparition echoed through the kitchen, and two figures appeared.

Luna Lovegood, looking serene as ever, floated into the room as if she had been expecting this call all along. Her wand was tucked behind her ear, and her silver-blonde hair shimmered in the dim light. Draco Malfoy followed closely behind her, his sharp features looking more mature than the schoolboy Harry had once known. His platinum hair was neat, his tailored black robes impeccable, but there was something in his eyes—an understanding of the gravity of the situation—that made Harry grateful for his presence.

"Harry, good morning," Luna said dreamily, glancing around as if expecting to see magical creatures lurking in the shadows. "I had a feeling you would be calling."

Draco, less composed but still confident, leaned against the doorframe, eyeing the book on the table. "You said it was urgent, Potter. What's going on?"

Harry gestured for them to sit. "I found something. Something that might explain why magic is fading—and how we might be able to stop it."

Luna's eyes widened, a spark of curiosity lighting up her face. Draco's expression shifted, his cool detachment replaced by interest. Harry opened the book and slid it toward them.

"It's a book I found in Grimmauld Place's library. It's about an ancient galaxy—Zenithara," Harry began. "Twelve planets, each with unique, untouched magic. The book describes them in detail. It's like magic there hasn't been tainted by time, or by the weakening forces we're seeing here."

Draco furrowed his brow, flipping through the pages. "This sounds like some kind of fantasy," he said, though there was no dismissiveness in his tone, just intrigue.

"I thought the same at first," Harry admitted, "but the descriptions are too vivid, too precise. And it lines up with other things I've been researching. Old myths, forgotten prophecies—there's always mention of a place beyond our stars, a last refuge of magic."

Luna leaned over Draco's shoulder, her eyes following the lines of ancient script. "The planets... they sound beautiful," she murmured. "Crythos, with its frozen lakes of time. Mirithis, an Earth untouched by humans, full of pure magic. I can almost hear the whisper of the ley lines."

Draco raised an eyebrow at her, but Harry continued. "I'm not saying I know how to get there—not yet. But if this galaxy exists, and if its magic is as strong as the book suggests, then it could be the answer. It could be our last hope."