Author's Note: And here it is, the end of the Dark Prince saga…I really hope you enjoyed taking this journey with me, and I pray you'll stick with me till this last theme has ended. Please, please, read and enjoy and thanks so much. This chapter is slightly unedited and will be replaced soon enough. The summary is a quote from J. R. R Tolkien.

Disclaimer: "If we shadows have offended, think but this and all is mended,

That you did but slumber'd here while these visions did appear.

And this weak and idle theme is no more yielding then a dream."

-Midsummer's Night Dream

"The shadows are the truth in here,

So enter at your own risk;

for the tragedy of knowing

is to know what you have missed…"

- Unknown

Dénouement

By: Lady Erised

Kiernan Malone had a memorable face but it was not because of handsome features, alluring eyes or charming grace. He became etched into memory because he looked like a walking dead. He was in his mid-thirties but looked far beyond those years. Hair that had once been dark chocolate was mostly gray and thin and seemed glued to his scalp. His eyes were large, round and probably could have once been describe as gray. Now they were dull and dead and seldom looked at anything but the floor or the sky.

He never walked; he shuffled from place to place, holding his hands rigidly by his side. His body as a whole was frail but like most in his business, it belied a true strength. His pinky nail was filed to a sharp point, as if made for gouging out eyes if needed. He probably had done that more then once where he had come from.

After all, there was no place for humanity in Azkaban.

He lifted his head and tasted the air. He could feel a soft wind blowing, as he watched the people move around him. He sighed heavily, feeling his age and many years beyond that. It was on cold days like this that he felt like all his sins seemed to catch up to him. It was the war. He had fought in the first war, as a bright-eyed youth who believed in the stories the great men told him. He had followed one of these great men, and still bore the reminders of his folly on his face.

He inhaled, bringing in the cold winter air into his lungs, for courage. He pushed open the door of the bar and stepped in.

"You're late." The woman announced as he slid into the chair opposite her. She took a drink from her glass and stamped out the cigarette she had been chewing on but not smoking. He glared at her but said nothing, instead he just watched her.

She could have been attractive had it not been for her scowl. Her hair was cut close to the scalp in loose, uneven locks and bleached platinum although her natural black was peering through. Her eyes darted around the room restlessly and she seemed to always be fidgeting. It made her look uncertain but Kiernan knew better then to assume that.

"Why do you smoke those? You hate them." He asked.

"Came with the outfit." The woman said; downing another shot of whatever poison was the treat of the day. Kiernan looked down at the woman's baggy green cargo pants, thick jackboots and muscle shirt that showed off strong but scarred arms and smiled. "What else came with it?"

"What do you have for me?" She said instead of answering.

"Not a whole lot. The Black Prince is desperate to prove himself. He cares for nothing and is paranoid to boot. The Dark Prince spared spouses and children under a certain age; he does neither. He cares only for the death he can cause."

"Come on Kiernan, give me some bad news."

"He's not going to stop unless someone kills him." Kiernan paused. "And I don't think anyone can. I believed him when he said he was going to turn the world to ashes, Becka, because god help us, he just might."

"You don't have any idea what he's going to do next?"

"Some, Voldemort and the Prince will only speak together in the presence of Mayon and Radella." Kiernan shifted in his seat. "But he's beginning to get whatever information he can about Fudge and his personal staff. Some believe he's going to try and attack the Ministry."

"And what role do Mayon and Radella play in this?"

"They are loyal to Voldemort and him alone and don't look at me that way because there is no way you can reach them."

The woman looked up, eyes narrowed. "Why do you say that? Everyone can be bought for the right price."

"Not these two." Kiernan leaned forward. "They're Coven, magicians with powers to rival Voldemort himself and they protect him, I don't know how yet though. It was the Coven protected Voldemort against death, it was them that saved his life that day in Godric's Hallow."

"How?"

"I wish I knew. The Coven use to be a sect of 13 Wizards and Witches sworn to uphold the Dark Lord's life at the cost of their own. They were trained in some kind of dark magic, without a wand, sometimes I've heard it been called the Aett Magic."

"Who knew this?"

"A very select few, even among the higher echelons of the Dark armies, I learned it from the Throne of Souls, but they were all killed during Silent Night. Beside them, Jack the Ripper, the Dark Prince and now you."

"Thank you, Kiernan."

"Hey, isn't that what a spy is suppose to do?" He took her drink and downed it.

She was resting her eyes on him now. She had steadied herself, sitting calmly like a shadow, watching him finish her drink. He couldn't read her expression but thought her eyes looked troubled. When she spoke again, her voice was firm and emotionless. "No sign of Choice yet?"

"No, I haven't seen him at any of the gatherings, usually he's on Voldemort's left, behind Peter but now he's no where to be seen. I fear he's met the same fate the Ripper has."

"What has happened to the Ripper?"

"She has been banished to her villa. She lives in fear of the Black Prince and those who see this are too scared of this young upstart, they dare not move. He's alienating everyone. Lucius Malfoy already wants his blood but doesn't act because he fears for his wife and son."

"And how are you, Kiernan?"

"Been better, been worst." He shrugged. "Can't complain."

"I'm sure." She rose, pulling out some crumpled bills for the Muggle bartender. "Pay the tab and keep the rest."

"Thanks."

"Be safe, Kier, alright?"

"Aw, don't get all sisterly on me." He laughed. "You ain't got the practice."

She flicked the cigarette butt at him and walked out the door. Kiernan watched her go and let his smile fade. "You stay safe too."

The woman opened the door to her flat and threw her keys on the table. She shrugged out of black duster, pulling out another cigarette to light. She regarded it for a moment, then replaced the cigarette and threw them with her keys. She crossed the room, swinging the little white Chinese take-out boxes as she went. She came to a large glass aquarium where a thick black snake rested under a warm light. It reared up and hissed at her dangerously.

"Oh, hiss at me all you want. I should have made boots out of you years ago." The snake hissed again and she hissed right back. She reached down and tickled his flat head. The snake calmed down and curled unto her hand. It began to slowly tighten its grip. "Oh don't even try it, Dybbuk or you won't get dinner." Dybbuk relaxed its grip and waited. She smiled at him and opened the box and released the two mice into the cage.

"Becka?"

The woman closed her eyes and frowned. She turned around, towards her fireplace where Hawke's head was floating. She exhaled. Bad news…there was always bad news at dinnertime.

"Well," She snapped at attention, spinning on her heels, towards the flame. "Who died, Phoenix?"

"Quite the opposite," Phoenix Hawke said softly. "We got an Auror coming in from purgatory; he's been assigned to our squad."

Purgatory was the nickname Aurors gave to the civilian life some Aurors tried to lead after leaving active duty. Living in Purgatory very rarely worked because most Aurors simply become too accustomed to life in the uniform that they feel incomplete without it. That was the most ironic thing about being an Auror; it was almost impossible to walk away from. Becka grimaced. The Hecate Curse, they called it. Those who tried were sometimes called by one of two names: Prodigals, or if they were traitorous, Judas. The fact that this one was coming back meant he was a Prodigal.

She frowned, knowing there was something more to this. "So, what's the story? Why are you contacting me?"

"Because, I'm calling you back from England. You're done as a spy contact."

"What?!" She exclaimed angrily. "I got people out here, Phoenix, I can't leave them alone."

"We need you back here, by Sky Falls' side."

"You can't handle her and this new guy?"

"I want you here." Hawke ordered. "I want you back at Hecate by morning Apelle."

"How about midday roll call?"

"Why so late?"

"Because I plan to get smash faced and have random sex with my spies before I get back home."

"That's not funny. See you at midday." She watched the face disappear into the flames before they died out. She ran a hand through her short locks and sighed. "What do you think, Dee? Whiskey or Brandy?" The snake was finishing off his last mouse. He looked up at her coldly before returning to his meal. She nodded. "You're right. Both."

With that, she spun on her heels with something that surpassed military sharpness and crossed to where she kept all her liquor.

She planned to get smashed; very, very smashed and then she planned to have a killer hangover tomorrow when she was suppose to meet this prodigal. As this was running through her mind, she stopped, leaned back against the doorframe, and exhaled.

She had been playing this part for a little over two years and she didn't know how much longer she could keep it up.

She was getting tired…very tired.

Something jolted her from her dreaming. She looked down and saw Dybbuk curl around her leg. She leaned down and picked him up. She kissed his head and continued on her way. "I know, I know, I'm scared too." She murmured to him. "Let's get those drinks, eh?"