One Week Later
THE DAILY PROPHET
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Reopened!
The Wizarding World Celebrates the Death of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named
By Rita Skeeter
A week has passed since Harry Potter and You-Know-Who met in a final duel of fate within the hallowed halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. During a single night, the second rising of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was thwarted and the darkest wizard of the century was killed, his followers scattered and his stranglehold on the Wizarding World broken. The casualty count has risen to forty-three, just under half of those being a class of Second Year students attending an Astronomy Class, and including the slayer of You-Know-Who himself, Harry Potter.
Harry Potter was reported to have dabbled in dark magic himself and his death comes after a warrant was sent out for his arrest. Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour, has responded to public comments by addressing the...
Albus did not need to read anymore and he carefully placed the Daily Prophet on the table beside his plate and gazed out at Great Hall. It had taken a few days before repairs on the school had started but sheer numbers of volunteers from all cross-sections of life had stepped up and volunteered their services. Albus had been allowed to sit back and rest while old students, some as old as he and some just scant years out of 7th Year, toiled away with magic and might, lifting the heavy piles of debris away while specialised builders began assessing and planning for the repair of the Astronomy Tower. While there was still much more work to be done, Albus and the Board of Governors had decided that the damage had been contained and it was safe enough to allow the students to return.
The Great Hall was full of students and although the usual house colours had been replaced with black in a show to respect those who had died within the halls of Hogwarts almost exactly a week ago, it did not seem to deter the students as they chatted and laughed and occasionally threw food at each other. Albus' keen eye spotted a small group of downtrodden Second Years and he frowned, sighing and shaking his head. Several of the Second Years who had witnessed the murder of their classmates had been sent home and did not want to return. Many of the others were showing clear signs of depression and insomnia and Albus resolved to approach Madame Promfrey about the situation.
Albus's eyes eventually found their way to one specific figure and a momentary frown broke through his benign features. The Second Year girl, Laura Madley, had been found unconscious but otherwise unharmed out on the school grounds. Albus had been in disbelief when he had first heard because he had been absolutely positive that Lord Voldemort had killed the muggleborn with his bare hands. A quick inspection of the girl had alerted Albus to what had really happened and even now he sat quietly on the secret, uncertain as to where to go with it.
Could he allow another Denarian attend this school? Privately, Albus knew that the only reason he had been so tolerant with Harry at first was because of certain details that the Headmaster had known about Voldemort and the prophecy. There was very little to gain and very much to lose to allow another unknown Denarian slip through the halls and get a foothold in the Wizarding World. It was hard to tell what the Fallen was thinking but Albus could confirm that the girl was still in possession of her soul and the Fallen had, so far, remained dormant.
He had to trust in Harry. Harry would not have given one of the students a coin unless he knew that she would be fine.
Albus stroked his beard thoughtfully and leaned back in his chair. Harry Potter had departed the castle only a few hours ago, saying a hasty goodbye before he had practically fled from him. Albus wasn't quite sure what had happened between Meciel and Harry, only that it had somehow changed the fundamental way of their relationship and Harry was perhaps not ready for that to be publically seen. Besides, it would have been awkward at best had a stray witch of wizard spotted the new hero and had leaked words of his survival. At the moment, the entire world thought Harry Potter dead and Albus would do his best to propagate that until the day he died.
Harry was a trump card- a trump card at those who would seek to harm the Wizarding World. Dark Lords rose and fell and there was always somebody to take their place in the end. Albus had suspicions, faint and unjustified suspicions, that the newest one would not be too far off.
Somebody had been working with Maeve, somebody within the Wizarding World. The Winter Lady would only have been attracted to somebody with power, political, magical or physical, somebody who could spread her influence. Lord Voldemort claimed that it had not been him and while he may have been lying there was also the slightest chance that the Dark Lord had been honest.
If not him- then who?
Albus suspected that it would be Harry who would find out- and probably the hard way too and, as much as he genuinely liked and respected the Denarian Lord Albus would not have had it any other way. He nestled back into his seat and allowed himself to relax. Within his robes came a small chirp and Albus smiled at the annoyance he heard in Fawkes's tone. She would recover with time and Albus would reach the peak of his strength yet again.
He was still burdened with knowledge and power he quite honestly did not want, yet, for the first time in a very long time Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, was content.
Amanda Carpenter scowled at nothing in particular as she sat crossed-legged at the edge of her bed. She could just imagine the smiling, cheerful faces of the other students down in the Great Hall and her fury and anguish threatened to explode from her. Amanda took a deep breath, closed her grey eyes and tried to calm herself down.
It didn't work.
"Damn it!" Amanda shouted and jumped up from the bed.
Her arms fumbled about her and her hands closed around the first thing she could find, a bedside lamp, and she picked it up and hurled it at the door. It struck it with a solid thump and the lamp fell to the ground as Amanda whirled around, her eyes ablaze with great anger.
"God damn it, Harry! Why did you have to...?" Amanda trailed off and she stopped.
The Knight of the Cross heaved a depressed sigh and the anger drained away from her, leaving a mixture of sorrow and resignation. She shook her head fiercely as she felt a familiar prickle burn at the sides of her eyes. Amanda refused to cry, refused to let the tears spill, because she could just hear Harry's voice in the back of her mind mocking and jeering t her. She managed a watery smile at the image of Harry berating her for her weakness.
Harry Potter had been her first love. Sure, she had had crushes before but they had been tiny and insignificant little things. She had loved Harry for his strength, his bravery, his independence- and she recognised that which so very few people could see. Harry Potter had been a good person. He had been crude, rough and abrasive but Amanda had seen how he had shown compassion to the weak and needy and been utterly and entirely unmerciful when it came to the wicked.
He had been like a vengeful angel, which was fitting given his status.
She should have been happy. As a Knight of the Cross, she should have been ecstatic that the last Denarian had been killed. There was no coin to collect but Amanda was positive that Professor Dumbledore would not have allowed such a dangerous artefact to leave the school in unsafe hands. Amanda made a mental note to speak to Dumbledore about that. Harry may have been dead but Meciel was quite possible alive and trapped within a coin and Amanda, no matter how much she did not like Meciel, could not allow someone Harry had loved to suffer.
Even if she had to pick up the coin herself.
Amanda sighed and sat back down with a thump. She winced as her backside met something and uncomfortable and reached down under the covers. She came up with a large book of some kind and threw it aside with only a careless glance. The large tome fell to the floor with a thud and that was what brought Amanda out of her stupor. Since when had she owned such a large book?
Amanda flicked her wand and the book slowly floated up off of the ground and settled in the air right in front of her. It was a large, dusty-looking tome with a cracked spine. It was clearly quite old and Amanda swished her wand, opening the cover with curiosity. Something fluttered out of the page and Amanda's hand shot forward, snatching the small piece of torn parchment before it could hit the ground. She turned it over and read it.
To the Brat,
Try not to embarrass me any more than possible. It'll make me look bad.
I had a few days free so I decided to leave you some notes. Come find me when you're a somewhat decent witch- if that ever happens.
With Much Annoyance and Irritation
Your Awesome God
Amanda's heart pounded in her chest and her eyes were wide as she turned her gaze back to the book. With shaking hands, she flipped the pages over to where the piece of parchment had fallen out. There, on the top right of the page, was a small notation, 'AD + GG'.
Under that somebody had scrawled in 'and HP'. Amanda quickly turned through the pages, a wide and beautiful smile forming on her face. There were pages and pages of notes. For many of the pages the ink was old and faded and the writing was neat, slanted and cursive. But, at the very back of the book, there was a new section in a familiar, messy scrawl that Amanda had grown to know after two years of schooling with the boy. Her eyes drank it all in and her mouth opened in astonishment as she saw a continuation of the lessons that Harry had given her.
It was fresh too.
It couldn't have been more than a few days old.
Amanda's emotion surged from bewilderment to surprise to happiness and joy and continued to spiral out of control until she finally settled on one. Her grey eyes flashed angrily and her blonde hair billowed out around her as she slammed her hands on her bed.
"Harry! You bastard!" She screamed out furiously. "You...you...I thought you were dead!"
Nobody answered her and Amanda faintly remembered that everybody else was at the feast. She scowled and flicked her wand, and the book went flying onto her bed. Amanda dropped down next to it with a look of determination and her resolve strengthened.
"A competent witch, huh?" Amanda growled as she began to read. "I'll show him."
The words may have been a little blurry as Amanda cried with tears of joy and relief but she didn't let that slow her down. Her inner drive had been renewed and she had found a new purpose. For the time being, Amanda Carpenter, Knight of the Cross, was content.
"Oh yeah. This is great."
Harry Potter was on a warm beach, a pair of sunglasses hiding his green eyes from view as he lounged back on a deck chair. His recently beaten and battered body was still very weak and he had dozens of scars all over his chest but he was alive. A small smile crossed his face as Harry relaxed under the sun of the tropical island.
Next to him, Meciel lounged in her own deck chair. Her dark hair glittered in the light and her smooth pale skin was bronzing quite nicely- even if it was just an illusion. Her bikini-clad body was visible only to Harry but her illusion was enjoying the sensation of sun just the same. The two were tightly entwined now and it was hard to tell when one of them started and the other began. They were a mixture of mortal and divine, something unique and powerful. Never before in the vast history of the world had Meciel heard or seen something like this happening.
Harry found that honestly didn't mind that much. In fact, it had been interesting trying to see when Meciel's breasts began until the Fallen, his Fallen, had started being tricksy about it.
"It is enjoyable, yes," Meciel answered and her voice was warm and caring. Harry gazed over at her and grinned and she smiled back.
"A bit of rest before the next quest will do us a bit of good," Harry remarked out loud and idly watched the seagulls soar and buzz around above him. He narrowed his eyes and mentally calculated how much power and effort it would take him to set them ablaze. It was an automatic process now and maybe Harry was being too careful but it was best to start being conservative as soon as could.
"You needn't worry," Meciel remarked lightly. "I have powers that match those of the gods. My well of Hellfire will not run dry for quite some time."
"If you can't regenerate your own power any more then you don't have the power of a god," Harry rebutted mildly. "I don't want to rush through your power and waste it all before I get the chance to fix this. I'm still immortal, you know, so if you think you can a thousand years like this then you're dreaming."
"I don't think it can be fixed," Meciel said quietly.
"We'll see," Harry said evenly. He flipped to his side and gazed at her beautiful form. "Meciel, I am going to spend the rest of my life finding a solution to this. I will restore your powers, I will give you a new home and I will make sure that you stay safe in case I die."
"Hmm," was all Meciel said. She was quiet for a few moments. "I am not concerned, you know. I have already seen to it that your body will not age and by the time my Hellfire runs dry you will be a powerful and potent wizard in your own right. You would not need me for power and my consciousness would always remain with you."
Harry shrugged and turned over on his stomach. "I'd get bored if I didn't have something to aspire to anyway. Besides," he added wryly. "It will be a good distraction between now and the next big thing that I'll end up getting dragged into."
"Oh? Like what?"
"Who knows?" Harry said lazily. His keen eyes spotted a pair of beautiful teenage girls strolling along the footpath above him and he was tempted to go and join them. Harry stared at Meciel from the corner of his eye and, with a sigh, flipped back over on his stomach and closed his eyes.
"Not interested?" Meciel sounded amused.
"Can't be fucked," Harry answered lazily. He cocked a single eye open and leered at her. "Besides, there's better eye candy here."
Meciel laughed and Harry smirked. Together, the Fallen and the human relaxed. Their fight was far from done but for now they had earned their rest. Harry Potter, the Denarian Lord, was content.
A petite raven-haired girl gingerly lowered herself upon her icy throne and stared out at her subjects. There was no emotion on her face but Amaris Potter, the Winter Lady, found that she was content- for now.
Laura Madley, Second Year Hufflepuff, looked up at her friends with a wide grin on her friendly face. They all missed the flicker of fire that shot through her eyes as the entity within her began to stir. Deep within her, Verrine absorbed her new surroundings with relish. Free of the Void yet again, she mutually cursed and thanked Harry Potter. It would be hard adjusting to a new host and his warning rang through her ears even now. Yet, despite that, she would make do and would be content with what she had- for now.
And, in a dusty shop on the corner of Diagon and Knocturn Alleys, a golden pendent wreathed into the shape of a large 'S' glowed with a malevolent green light and shuddered for a few moments before going still.
A/N: As you can see, I've left it quite open-ended and with lots of potential plot points just in case I ever want to come back to it or write an omake. There's likely to be a few of them, so keep an eye out on The Denarian Omakes for some fun. I have no plans on another Denarian story. I also like leaving open-ended endings to give something to stir the imagination, to keep people wondering what will happen next.
Final Authors Notes: Well, well, well. It seems that this series has finally come to an end. It's been a long two and a half years since I started posting The Denarian Renegade and I still remember when I came up with the idea, a hazy little bunny on the train home from university. It's gone far and I have a lot of people to thank for it.
Thanks to Jon and Nuhuh for being constant beta's and idea-bouncers. A lot of the best scenes in the story came from 1 of the 2, I can tell you that now. You were awesome and kept me writing whenever I didn't want to.
Thanks to the DarkLordPotter community. I know everybody portrays them as dicks but they're a great bunch for wiggling out plot-holes and bad ideas. There are too many to name but there' at least 50 or 60 constant people who went out of their way to review and make corrections and suggestions that I, more often than not, found to be very useful. I'd have abandoned this story long ago without them.
Thanks to you guys out at . I'd never gave gotten this far, in the series and as a writer, without you. This is probably going to be my last foray into fanfiction and I'm moving onto an original series. I know I'm not quite good enough yet but I think it's time that I gave it a try.
Ok. Any longer and they'll start playing music and, fuck, it's just fanfiction for God's sake.
It's been fun.
Have a great New Year.