Greatly Exaggerated

By: Awlric Hayell

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter…Nor do I own the name Demoonica Darkmoon. That belongs to…Demoonica Darkmoon. I hope you can forgive me for using your screen name, but I was at a loss and you were the first thing to come to mind. I do, however, own the Dark Lord Caronis. grin it was a spur of the moment name, but it works.

Summary: Harry is dead?! Well, so is Lord Voldemort, but that doesn't matter. The Wizarding World is mourning and a Dark Lord and Lady are quarreling at the Hero's funeral. It would seem that the world is doomed…but who is this mysterious figure with piercing green eyes? Find out! Read on! Review if you like it.

(August 1, 1997)

It was the day after Lord Voldemort's demise (and the resulting disintegration of the rest of the Dark Lord's armies through the dark mark) at the hands…well, wand actually…of Harry James Potter. What should have been a day of celebration, however, was instead a day of mourning. "Why is this?" An uninformed passer-by might ask. For the answer, they need only read headline of the special edition Daily Prophet and weep with the masses.

Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, now Hero-Who-Died.

Yes, it would certainly appear that, in the process of destroying the worst Dark Lord the Wizarding World had ever seen, our young hero gave his life. There was even a funeral planned. The irony of this registered with a cloaked figure walking through a conspicuously empty Diagon Alley, and he grinned, his piercing green eyes twinkling ala-Dumbledore-with-a-secret.

"I wonder how they'll react if I showed up in the middle of the ceremony?" he mused aloud. "What time did the paper say the funeral was? 1:00?" He glanced at the nearby clocktower to check the time. The time was 1:10 PM. He sighed. "Well, Professor Snape always said I'd be late for my own funeral. I just hope I didn't miss any excitement." With that last thought, the cloaked figured shifted his cloak and the Alley was once again devoid of intelligent life…except for the mice.

(About 10 minutes earlier, at the funeral)

An interesting fact of life is that when the evil you know is destroyed and the good that destroyed it is taken with it, an unknown evil generally enters the equation. Of course, in the normal world, this happens after a brief period of peace and prosperity. Since when was the Wizarding world normal? At precisely 1 o'clock, a new Dark Lord and a new Dark Lady crashed the wake, taking wands and leaving the general populace stunned (literally) and shell-shocked. This, of course, happened in the brief period of 2 minutes, which goes to show how inept at defending itself the Wizarding world was.

As luck would have it, though, the two Dark Magical People appeared to have differing goals and gloating descended into verbal sparring which degraded to arguing loudly in the middle of the funeral foyer as their minions watched in amusement while guarding the prisoners.

The Dark Lord Caronis, with his Legions of Peace, advocated for the subjugation of all inferior beings under an iron rule (his, of course) and the eradication of the current government due to corruption. His inner circle was comprised of politically powerful wizards and witches who had seen the corruption and sincerely wanted to do something about it. The way they went about it, though, bordered on guerilla warfare, with assassinations, terrorism, and general mayhem.

The Dark Lady Demoonica Darkmoon was of a different mindset. A muggleborn who was disgusted by the backwardness of the wizarding world in general, she wished to bring about freedom and equality for all, regardless of race, creed, species, or magical ability (needless to say, she wasn't exactly a traditional dark lady). Her minions, composed almost entirely of sentient magical creatures (werewolves, vampires, etc.), were loyal to her and her alone because she rescued most of them from a life of torture and promised them freedom. Of course, the current ministry branded her ideology as dark and labeled her a Dark Lady.

The cloaked figure went unnoticed when he walked in the entrance, all eyes (and ears) having been on the argument taking place before them. Listening in for a while, he decided to conjure up a theater chair and some popcorn so as to wait for them to notice him.

"What we need to do is rid ourselves of this corrupt government and replace it with a true ruler! (preferably me)" This was obviously Caronis.

"You fool! I agree with you about the government being corrupt, but what we need to do is take a page out of the Muggle books and establish a democracy with freedom for all!" That would be Demoonica.

"Muggles? Those inferior beings? Hah! They aren't anything but cattle, you mudblood scum!"

Demoonica's eyebrow twitched. "What did you just call me?"

Caronis sneered. "I'm sorry, are you hard of hearing as well as socially challenged? I called you a no-good, trashy, ignorant, mudblood slut. You aren't even good enough for my dog."

A vein popped out on Demoonica's forehead as Caronis continued his insulting rant. "I wouldn't touch your clothes with a tenfoot pole. Your breath stinks, your hair's a mess, your ugly as sin, and your parents aren't even worth the dirt on the bottom of my shoe."

At this, Demoonica snapped and in a second she had Caronis under the most excruciating Crucio he had ever felt. "You can insult me. You can insult my people. Hell, you can even insult my blood. But you just insulted my parents and that is an insult I will not endure."

A slow clap snapped her out of her rage and she turned towards the sound. Her gaze fell on a man in a dark cloak sitting in an obviously conjured chair. "Who the f&k are you?" She snarled, obviously still angry.

Caronis twitched on the ground and groaned as he recovered from the Crucio.

He paid her no mind as he applauded her. Eventually she lost her patience and put him under a mild Crucio. To her surprise, he didn't scream. Hell, he didn't even flinch. What he did was grin, obviously holding in his mirth. She increased the power. He snickered, even as he visibly shook from the effort of trying not to laugh. Narrowing her eyes, she turned it up to the power she used on Caronis. He started chuckling. By then Caronis was up and good and angry at the sound of someone laughing. So he also threw his most powerful crucio on the robed figure. What happened next, no one expected. The cloaked figure broke out into tear-jerking, knee-slapping, side-splitting, doubled-over-because-you're-laughing-so-hard guffaws. Slightly disturbed, the dark lords turned off their Crucios.

"Who are you?" Caronis asked with a healthy amount of fear.

The cloaked figure wiped a tear out of his eye as he recovered from his recent laughing fit, still letting off a snicker every now and then. "I'm sorry about that." He panted. "I'm really ticklish when dark curses of pain and agony are used on me."

"That didn't answer my question." Caronis deadpanned.

The cloaked figure grinned a Cheshire grin. "You want to know who I am?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his green eyes. "I'll show you who I am!" He shouted, whipping off his cloak with a flash of light. Within the distraction and obvious surprise of the exclamation and sudden movement, everyone flinched and shut their eyes reflexively. When they opened their eyes again, there was nothing but a voice and a memory.

"I am the terror that flaps in the night." The voice came from everywhere, yet nowhere at all. Wands were drawn by minions all around and several of the Muggleborns and Halfbloods in the room (Demoonica included) sweatdropped as they recognized the quote.

"I am the Finite to your Incantatum." This time, the voice seemed to come from an upper corner of the room. The Mugleborn and Halfbloods were now certain about what he was doing.

"Accio wands." The power behind the phrase was palpable as all the wands in the room were torn from their owners hands to pile at an open spot in the middle of the room. An invisibility cloak was flung on top of the pile revealing the familiar figure behind it. If the messy black hair and emerald eyes didn't give away who it was, then lightning bolt scar certainly did. "I am Harry Potter." He grinned. "Didja miss me?"

Demoonica was floored by this revelation and Caronis did something incredibly stupid. "YOU!" He screamed. In an incredible display of emotion-fueled wandless magic, he cast the most dire curse known to wizardkind. "AVADA KEDAVRA!!!!" And, in an even more incredible display of magical talent, Harry simply swatted it back in a careless manner. Of course, all Dark minions present began sweating bullets.

Demoonica simply pointed at him in horror. "Y- you're supposed to be DEAD!"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Really?" Patting himself down, he shrugged and checked his pulse. "Nope, still beating." Then he groped Demoonica. She slapped him on reflex before mind processed what she just did. Harry grinned. "Yep, that hurts just as much as I remember. Guess I'm still alive."

"B-but, How? The rumors said you died when you defeated You-Know-Who."

Harry smirked. "To quote a muggle author: 'It would appear that rumors of my demise have been greatly exaggerated.' …And why do you people still call Voldemort You-Know-Who? He's dead. It's not like he's coming back."

Demoonica blushed in embarrassment. "Sorry. Force of habit."

The End.

Well? How did you like it? Please review. I thrive on reviews…if I get enough, I might just post the unadaulterated, unedited version with the short excerpt from the Daily Prophet article. grimace I'll warn you, though. It's quite handwritten.