Fenris the Wolf
Odin Allfather, Kind of Asgard and Protector of the Nine Realms, jerked his head up from speaking with the Royal Council when the golden doors of his throne room were slammed open by a frantic Asgardian warrior who wore the blue trimmings of a patrol.
Standing up to his full impressive height and gripping his legendary spear Gungir, he demanded in a booming voice, "What is the meaning of this interruption?!"
"My king!" The guard cried out, rushing to the throne and causing his personal bodyguards to draw their swords as they closed in around him protectively as a single unit. Fortunately for the man, he fell to one knee subserviently as soon as he neared the Allfather. "I have news! The Mad Wolf has disappeared!!!"
"What?!" Odin demanded immediately, his lone blue eye widening in alarm and even a small amount of fear at the mention of his prophecized destroyer. The hand that gripped Gungir tightened and Odin leaned forward aggressively, "Are you certain?"
"Yes, your majesty. The ribbons that bound the monster were empty, merely gripping the forest itself." The warrior nodded, trembling from adrenaline. He bowed his head, "Fenris....has escaped!"
Odin staggered back into his throne, seating himself upon it and drawing Gungir over his knees as he focused on sensing the beast. The feeling of rage and betrayal that symbolized his grandson's presence was gone from Asgard with no trace of sorcery or trickery to be found.
"What magic is this?" He questioned to himself, frowning in concentration as he carefully unleashed more of the Odin Force to aid in the search. He ignored the groaning of his Elite Guard as their knees began to buckle from the sheer amount of power exuding from their king that radiated like the heart of a blue star.
He searched for any sign of betrayal within his ranks, some kind of trace that would indicate either a physical or magical presence in the area where the gigantic wolf was formerly bound by the most powerful of chains. Much to his dismay, he could find nothing. Nothing! Somehow, someone or something had liberated the vengeful beast; either for sinister plans or due to a feeling of misguided pity.
How could there be no traces? Not even the Enchantress held the power to hide from his eye once he tapped into his true power, the smallest amount of which was able to bring entire realms to heel; to say nothing else for the rest of his vast magical reserves. There was only one suspect that he could see. Someone with the motivation to free Fenris, the cunning to distract Odin himself, but it was impossible, not even that suspect held the power to cut the Dwarven bindings.
"Fetch Loki." Odin ordered in a growling voice, needing to look into his son's face so that he may see if Loki did indeed have something to do it. He would find the cause of the wolf's liberation and his wrath would descend upon them, but first, he needed to eliminate his youngest son as a suspect.
This was a disaster, a true disaster. There was nothing, absolutely nothing in all of the Nine Realms that could control Fenris. To attempt to manipulate the wolf magically or with words was the very essence of idiocy, only Frigga and Loki held the power to soothe the rage of the Mad Wolf, but neither of them would be so foolish as to release him or, at least, Odin hoped that neither of his loved ones were capable of such blatant stupidity.
Fenris cared not for life or for peace. There was no mercy to be found in him, no pity to stay his sharp teeth once he set his eyes on his prey. In that way, his grandson was very much like himself to Odin's shame. They shared the weakness of single mindedness to the exclusion of all else and the love of revenge. The only thing that mattered to Fenris was vengeance for Odin's betrayal of his trust and the breaking of his solemn word.
Were not the stakes so high for Asgard and the Nine Realms of Yggdrasil, Odin would be inclined to submit himself to Fenris' punishment, but if Odin fell, then the peace that he had worked so hard to cultivate for thousands of years would die with him. Thor was not yet ready for the burden of the throne, he was still too immature and rash; still a warrior first, but Asgard did not need more warriors, they needed a proper and wise King.
The escape of the wolf, however, placed all worlds and realms in terrible danger. For all of Odin's great power, the power which had secured and maintained the peace of many worlds in addition to the Nine Realms, Fenris alone held the strength and ferocity to fell the powerful Odin Allfather. If Fenris could match Odin, nay outmatch him as destiny had decreed long ago that he would, then all worlds would suffer under the unstoppable force that was Mad Wolf's anger.
Fenris no longer had the sanity to differentiate between allies and enemies, so he would treat all whom he met as a foe. If he was dropped into any realm, ANY realm, there was no comprehending the damage that he would cause in his quest to return to Asgard so that he might claim vengeance. There was no army with numbers enough nor sorcery powerful enough to dissuade Fenris, perhaps not even slow him down.
He was a berserk juggernaut, the most power Jotun since the reign of Ymir, although to the minds of Asgard the wolf was only half Frost Giant like Odin himself. Only Odin and Frigga knew that Fenris was pure Jotun. It was why the Allfather had forbidden Fenris and laid enchantments upon him to lock him into his animal form. If Fenris was to change from the wolf into a Frost Giant, then all of Asgard would know the secret of Loki's heritage and their dislike of Loki would only turn into animosity.
"Why have you summoned me, Father?" Loki questioned, striding into the Throne Room with his smooth gait. Odin glared into Loki's green eyes, seeking some sign of duplicity or trickery and reached out with the Odin Force. Loki's eyes widened as Odin delved into his mind, vainly struggling against the overpowering presence of the Allfather's magic, but in the blink of an eye, Odin withdrew.
"Fenris has escaped." Odin answered heavily, already regretting his rash decision to enter his youngest son's mind. There would be consequences to that, he knew. Loki prized his own mind over even his silver tongue and magical knowledge.
"What?" Loki asked softly, old pain flaring up in his green eyes that did battle with the hope that had arisen. Wariness soon replaced it, recalling the truth of the matter which was that Fenris could not be turned from his vengeance. "How is that possible? I know for a fact that there are no spells that could slacken those thrice damned Dwarven bonds."
"I do not know." Odin admitted, sighing heavily as he leaned back against his throne and rested. With each use of the Odin Force, the sleep crept up on him ever nearer. He fought it off. It was not yet time for him to fall into that state. There was too much to do. "I can find no trace of magic nor any presence out of the normal. Whoever freed him was capable of concealing themselves from my gaze."
"And so you suspected me." Loki spoke that which Odin had not said, resentment and even hurt burning in his eyes. Odin nodded, feeling a bit ashamed of himself for assuming his son's guilt so quickly.
"Your guilt in the matter has been absolved." Odin stated, frowning as he tried to figure out whom could have done such a thing if not Loki. "We must find and contain the beast before it lays waste to unwary worlds."
"That BEAST is my son!" Loki hissed out, his face tight in anger at Odin's words. "And he would not be threat if you had not betrayed him....and me, Odin Oathbreaker."
"Hold thy tongue, Loki!" Odin boomed out at the insult, rage flashing in his single blue eye and causing Loki to back up slightly in fear of his father's temper. "I am well aware of my own mistakes in the matter. I do not require your input or your poisonous words."
"Then you shall not have it." Loki spat, glaring up at Odin. "Hunt down Fenris if you must, search him out and chase him down like a rabid animal, but do so with the knowledge that it shall not be with my aid. Unlike you, I will not betray my own flesh and blood. Just consider this: even if you manage to slay Fenris, among your prestigious titles shall be another: that of kinslayer. Be wise, Allfather, for Fenris is not the only lover of vengeance among my children."
"Begone, Loki. I do not wish to see nor hear you." Odin bit out dismissively, receiving another glare from Loki for his restraint. As he watched his son storm angrily from the Throne Room, he failed to notice the shadow of his wife and Loki's teacher as the Queen slipped from the golden hall to follow her youngest.
Loki was nearing his quarters when he sensed her or, rather, when she allowed him to sense her presence. He turned to see his mother standing regally behind him, watching her son with a look of love that he drank in. For it was Frigga, not stern Odin nor rash Thor, whom he loved the most and she had favored him.
"Mother." Loki greeted warmly, bowing his head to her in respect and sending a bright smile to her. Frigga smiled slightly, appreciating his genuine smile and the caring that lay in those all too deceptive green eyes that each of her grandchildren had inherited. Even Fenris, during the brief moments she had seen him shapeshift into an Asgardian form, had possessed those lovely eyes.
"My son." She returned, walking over to cup his face and kiss his forehead. "Do not be so harsh in your thoughts toward your father. It is not often he fears for himself and, at the same time, others. It is an alien feeling for him."
"It was you, wasn't it?" Loki asked softly, spotting the truth in her eyes. He had no fear of being overheard as he was able to feel the magical wards she had cast in the hall. "Why? Why would you release Fenris? You know as well as I what he is capable of in his maddened state."
"For the same reason that you never ceased looking for a way to free him: love." Frigga admitted softly, stroking the cheek of her baby. "In all of his imprisonment, twas only your articulate words and my singing that soothed his rage. You were not the only one to suffer for Fenris' pain."
"Mother, what have you done?" He questioned with a whisper, watching as tears filled his mother's glistening yet ever warm eyes. "You are no fool. You would not be so careless as to drop Fenris into a realm helpless to his hunger and strength."
"I have sacrificed much for Fenris." Frigga acknowledged, no regret in her face. There was sorrow present and sadness, but not one hint of regret. "My end draws nearer now than ever before, but I have given my grandson that which he never had: a chance."
"You..." Loki trailed off, hugging her to him suddenly and holding her tightly. "...you have given up..."
"Many years." Frigga nodded into his neck, pulling back to smile watery at him. "And I would do so again until I had none left. I was forced to strike a bargain with the Fates, but Fenris has his chance for sanity and redemption. His fate is in his own hands now. There is little more I can for him."
"Thank you." Loki said gratefully, nearly falling to his knees in thankfulness. "Thank you, thank you, thank you...."
"Save your thanks, my son, for Fenris' quest shall not be an easy one. The Fates are not known for their kindness." Frigga whispered reluctantly, bowing her head. "He shall not know a parent's love nor the support of his kin and all will turn to him to defeat the enemies that they have created."
"Will he recognize me, were he to see me?" Loki asked softly, closing his eyes in pain when Frigga shook her head. "Then Fenris Lokison is truly dead."
"Nay, there is still hope." Frigga encouraged, and Loki looked up to see the same mischievous smile on her face that he saw whenever he stared into a mirror. "That which is born can never truly die, my son. One day, if Fenris finds the strength and selflessness of a true hero to counter balance the rage of the wolf, then we shall hear him sing to the moon once more."
"The Fates have cursed him with a hero's life." Loki realized with a frown, knowing that the tales of most heroes were tragedies. He wanted to find those three old hags and strangle them with his bare hands for daring to make his son suffer not only in his first life, but in his second one as well.
"It was part of their price for being forced to re-weave their tapestries. My sacrifice has only granted Fenris a fork to choose from where before there was only one road that he could travel." Frigga revealed, kissing her son's cheeks and cleaning his tears. "Remember, the rage of Fenris is not so easily denied and his strength not so easily concealed. He will face a foe who mirrors his new life, but if he can find mercy within himself, then the curse of vengeance shall be lifted from him and his power restored."
"What can I do?" Loki asked, eager to aid his son in any way possible. "How shall I find him among the Nine Realms? Into which realm was he reborn? How will I know him?"
"He is your son, you will always know him." Frigga smiled reassuringly. "And he will always know you, even if he does not remember. He will know that he had a mischievous father who loved pranks and wore horns upon his brow. Love is carried in the soul and he carries your love within him even now. His soul will remember you and the winter flower whom birthed him. The Fates, as a concession, have promised unto me to find counterparts that reflect passionate Angrboda and yourself as his new parents."
"Try, Voldemort. Try to find some remorse for all of your crimes." Harry pleaded quietly, wanting his enemy to have a chance for some kind of redemption. Their lives were too similar for him to hate his enemy, only pity was in his heart. "All of this pain is a result of your own cowardice, your fear of succumbing to death's touch. Save what humanity you have left."
"Humanity? I am not human, Potter. I am greater than human. I am more." Voldemort whispered with a quiet rage that carried his voice to every corner of the battlefield, those scarlet eyes glowing with hatred and madness. "I am Lord Voldemort and I do no succumb to the whims of death like some commoner! Death fears ME, Potter!!!"
"Be it on your head, then." Harry said grimly, giving a nod. His wand was out in front of him, eagerly pulsing in anticipation of fulfilling the purpose for which it was made. "And now, we end this the same way that it began: together."
"Together? Perhaps." Voldemort stated, his eyes glinting cruelly. Harry tensed, noticing the sudden cunning look on his enemy's face. "But not alone. Your sacrifice may have spared the lives of your friends, but that will not save you. You will not leave this field today, Harry Potter, and that I promise you. Death Eaters......ATTACK!"
Harry's eyes widened, not having expected the Dark Lord to break off their duel in such a cowardly manner. In the past, Voldemort had been insistent that he alone would face Harry one on one to prove his power, but with Harry's sudden resurrection, he was no longer willing to take any chances.
Dozens, maybe even hundreds of sickly green lights flew at Harry from every conceivable angle. There was no escape, he realized suddenly. No room to dodge, no cover to hide behind, and no shielding spells that would block the Killing Curse. He never took his eyes off of Voldemort's, unwilling to show fear at the end or the crushing failure he felt deep in his heart for assuming that Voldemort held even the slightest bit of honor.
As the many dark spells struck Harry James Potter, an earth shattering roar of defiance escaped his throat and shook what windows remained in Hogwarts as sickly green energy enveloped his form; hiding him for sight. To the concern of Voldemort, the roar did not cut itself off with the sudden silence of death, but continued, growing in intensity and becoming more animalistic with each passing second.
In the flaming green sphere of dark magic, shadows began to appear. Shapes forming in the energy, colors other than green manifesting themselves. The shadows gathered, forming two large glowing blood red eyes that glared into Voldemort's scarlet slits with an inhuman fury and savagery that terrified the Dark Lord as much as it confused him. He could still sense Potter's magic, but it was...fading, twisting, delving in on itself then pulsing outward only to repeat the process.
The sphere grew in size, rising up to an enormous height but curiously not widening in range at all. Dark Magic swirled around, faster and faster, spinning like a top as it grew greater intensity before Voldemort's surprised snake-like face. What was happening? Voldemort had never before seen such a phenomenon and would have greatly desired to study it in any other setting, then the he felt it: power lay in the center of the sphere, as fierce and wild as the oldest black magicks.
Too much power. Far, far too much. More than enough to destroy Hogwarts, enough to destroy all of Great Britain in an instant.
"Keep attacking you fools!" Voldemort screeched out to his followers, unwilling to attack the chaotic hurricane himself of magic for fear of unknown effects. They immediately obeyed, sending more killing curses and other lethal curses at the vortex.
Those terrible red eyes narrowed, turning to glare at the Dark Army. The spells that struck the vortex were reflected back onto their owners, just like that night sixteen years earlier. Some managed to dodge out of the way, but most did not, dropping dead where they stood or collapsing into agonized states and screaming out, adding to the cacophony.
Suddenly, the energy began to change in form. Resembling less a swirling firestorm and more a cloudy mist. That mist wavered, expanding one last time, then swirled into a cyclone just below those glowing red eyes. It was as if something was sucking up the magic, drinking it in for some unknown purpose. A deep growl reverberated from the chaos, shaking the very ground that Voldemort stood upon, then in a deep breath all of the energy was sucked into the muzzle of gigantic wolf.
It was massive, standing as high as the fortified wall of the ancient castle with sharp bristling fur that was as black as death itself. The ears were raised, a bit of fur on the edge causing them to resemble horns and a long black tail the size of the Thames whipped about behind the wolf. The creature's teeth were as large as a giant, sharp white pillars of death made for ripping and tearing flesh. It seemed to grin or perhaps sneer down at Lord Voldemort, the glowing eyes hungry and merciless.
Voldemort tilted his head upward, scarlet eyes wide with abject terror and horror as they stared into the cruel oceans of blood that the wolf's eyes so resembled. He gave a loud piercing scream as the demon lurched forward, bringing it's salivating muzzle down on the Dark Lord and ending his reign of terror with a bite that severed his body in half. So sudden was the movement that Voldemort's torsoless legs remained standing for a few moments as the wolf chewed, then the pair of skinny legs fell to the side.
The wolf swallowed the torso easily, it being nothing more than a pebble of meat to something of such great size, then it through it's head back and howled loudly. The gathered werewolves screamed out, collapsing into twitching wrecks as shadowy demonic wolves ripped themselves from their fleshy prisons and left their mortal hosts to answer the call of their father.
With a sharp snarl of the castle sized wolf, the smaller demon wolves turned on their comrades and began to devour them apart in a display of animalistic teamwork. The mountain giants tried to flee, but the massive wolf fell onto them swiftly, finding them a more filling meal than the mortals whom surrounded and stared up at it with sickened horror as violence on an unimaginable scale erupted around them.
Fenris roared triumphantly, bringing down giant after giant with ease and swallowing several of them whole to assuage the hunger his transformation had left him with. Soon, what few survivors of the Dark Army that had managed avoid the demon wolves fled to the edge of the wards and disapparated, leaving Fenris to happily devour the first proper meal he had enjoyed since his human rebirth.
"Harry?" A female's voice called out hesitantly, distracting Fenris from his meal and making him turn to glare down at the tiny creature. He vaguely recognized her, but growled threateningly, having learned to not underestimate ants. "Harry, is that you? It's Hermione, Hermione Granger. Do you remember me?"
Fenris glared, growling loudly and wincing as his head began to pound. He felt...confused and that made him angry. He did not like confusion, it hurt. He leaned down, sniffing curiously at the female who trembled in fear as her clothes were nearly pulled off of her frame from the force of the air currents his sniffing caused. He smelled the comforting scent of musky books, fresh ink, and cinnamon buns.
"Please, Harry, if it is you...do something." Hermione begged tearfully, staring up at the monstrous creature that had unleashed such savage violence only moments earlier.
Fenris shook his head, driving to drive away the jumbled thoughts of his mind and laid down in the courtyard. He ignored the fact that he lay on top of the bodies of the slain and his children quickly approached, their shadowy forms encircling the mortals yet not attacking them as they obviously desired to do. Some of his children rubbed against his fur, gleeful to smell his powerful scent and wishing to carry it on them once more. A few of the younger ones, mere pups in years, yipped playfully.
Then, the rage and confusion and hunger just....died. Ended as suddenly and unexpectedly as it had appeared. He remembered the girl, remembered many years of conversation and playful jibes at one another. His growl shook the castle, causing the wands of his former warriors to be pointed at him, but he ignored them, managing to say, "'Mio....ne."
"Yes, it's Hermione!" The scholar smiled, lighting up her entire face. Cautiously, she approached his muzzle and rubbed it with a shaking hand. "Harry, what happened? How did you turn into this....this.."
Fenris stared at her, then groaned in pain as he fought against the imprisoning magic that had bound him in his animal form. His body began to bulge and twist, then slowly shrank in size, the black fur disappearing to reveal sapphire blue rune marked flesh. The bones shifted soothingly into humanoid limbs until a giant of a man stood where once there was a humongous wolf.
Hermione gazed upward at the now nine foot giant, studying the runes and the shape of his lean body with fascination. He was thin, just like Harry, with wild black hair that formed a mane that passed his slender shoulders. The angular face was breathtakingly handsome and exotic with Norse runes inscribed into the flesh. The dustbin sized hands were long fingered and graceful, tipped with sharp black claws. He was a slim creature, tall and lean with long legs. In a word, he was beautiful to look upon.
And he was completely nude.
Blushing, Hermione waved her wand and conjured a large black cloak for him to preserve his dignity, but before that she noted that he was very blessed, at least according to what she had read. He slowly and carefully wrapped the cloak around his body, staring at his own hands with fascination and stunned realization.
"Thank you, 'Mione." The giant smiled, his voice a smooth tenor with an articulate accent that was inordinately pleasant to listen to yet one she could not place. It sounded almost Swedish, but mixed with German and Russian.
"Well, this is a bit surprising, mate." Ron admitted as he approached, having been stuck in the Great Hall during the majority of the battle. For the first time in his life, Ron had to look up at his best friend.
"I'm taller than you." Fenris murmured in surprise. Ron blinked, then began to laugh hysterically. Harry had always been rather short and compared to the unusually tall Ron he had sometimes seemed much shorter than he actually was.
"It's you, alright." Ron grinned, walking to stand beside Hermione. He was about say something else, but thunder boomed loudly. Everyone looked up, puzzled to see ominous black thunder clouds rolling in unusually fast.....from all directions. "That doesn't look good."
"It's not." Fenris stated, able to sense the power that was approaching. He snarled, barring his teeth ferally as he stared up. He knew that magic, knew it very well. A swirling aurora of greens, blues, and purples appeared high in the sky amidst the storm.
"Oh c'mon!" Ron shouted out, frustrated beyond all belief. "V-voldemort's dead, Lestrange is dead, and the Death Eaters are on the run, I mean, we've earned a break. Just one day, one single day! Is that too much to ask for?"
"Get down!" Fenris roared to everyone, recognizing what was happening. Fortunately, the people obeyed and back away. Some took cover in the castle. Hermione and Ron were reluctant to follow their example, hesitating to leave their friend, but he gave them a hard stare that was all the more intimidating with his solid crimson eyes. "Go! And whatever happens, DO NOT ATTACK!"
The aurora's color combined into a swirling vortex of alien energies, forming a pillar that held every color of the rainbow that descended rapidly from the sky to the ground and blinded everyone but Fenris who watched warily. He realized quite suddenly that he was unarmed, his wand having been destroyed in his rebirth and he knew of no magic that he could use as a defense against the approaching beings.
In the blinding pillar of multi-colored light, he could make out a impressive horned figure sitting on top of a rearing eight legged steed and knew the sight well. Twas Odin Allfather, riding on top of Fenris' brother Sleipnir, and his power shook the land as he appeared with well over a hundred elite Asgardian warriors. Fenris felt....afraid.
The Asgardians surrounded Fenris, eyeing his blue skin and red eyes hatefully as they pointed their weapons at him. Each was eager to do battle with the Fenris Wolf and their eyes held a lust for battle, but they were far too disciplined to give into the desire to attack him, awaiting the Allfather's command. He ignored them for the moment, his crimson eyes staring at the impressive figure of his grandfather.
"Fenris Lokison, the Mad Wolf of Jotunheim, Devourer of Armies, Bringer of Ragnarok, eldest son of Loki; God of Mischief, Lies, Fire, and Carnal Pleasures, Father of Monsters." Odin announced his grandson and son's titles, glaring down at him with his clear blue eye and gripping the spear which had felled Surtur. "I see the spells have fallen for tis not a wolf that stands before me, but a Frost Giant."
"Allfather." Fenris growled out in greeting, eyeing his grandfather hatefully as the raging inferno of ancient anger welled up inside of him. This was the man who had betrayed him, his own kin, with his challenges. Yet, what he felt most was fear. Not fear for himself, but fear for the friends he had gained in his new life. He knew better than to underestimate Odin's vengeance.
"Of all the Nine Realms, Midgard is the last where I expected to find you." Odin admitted, nudging Sleipnir to approach. The Asgardians parted, allowing the Allfather to come close to inspect his grandson. "And now you have come out of hiding at last. Why?"
"I never hid!" Fenris hissed out, angered by the insinuation of cowardice. "I was hidden, by whom I know not. I was reborn as a seidr wielding mortal. I wonder, if you had known of my helplessness, would I have grown to manhood, Grandfather?"
"Do you think me the sort to slay a child, Fenris?" Odin questioned heavily, a piercing glare in his blue eye. Fenris sneered back, wanting to rip the Oathbreaker before him limb from limb then pick his teeth with his bones, but he controlled his anger, more aware than ever of his fragile mortal friends.
"I underestimated you once before, Oathbreaker." Fenris snarled, glowering at the man who had betrayed him and betrayed his own given word in the process. "I made the mistake of believing the fairy tales my father told me of your honor and heroism."
"I did what was necessary to prevent Ragnarok!" Odin roared out angrily, but Fenris noticed with some confusion that the anger was not aimed at himself. The Allfather calmed himself, regret glimmering in his eye as he continued in a softer tone, "But my actions only set the ending of all things into motion. The sacrifice of my honor was in vain."
"Where is my father?" Fenris questioned, ignoring Odin's words of regret. It alarmed him to not see the golden horns of his sire among the silver armor and yellow cloaks of Asgardians and fear crept into his heart.
"Loki fell from the Bifrost some months ago and now tumbles eternally through the branches of Yggdrasil." Odin said sadly, grief in his voice. Fenris' eyes widened and his knees gave out from under him at the announcement. "You have missed much in Midgard, Fenris. Loki is now lost to us."
"You, you LIE!" Fenris screamed, unable to believe it. His father was the greatest sorceror in the Nine Realms, able to end entire world with his magic or control them with a mere whisper of his silver tongue.
"I do not." Odin stated bluntly, regret and old heartaches lining his face. "You are fortunate, Fenris, that good Heimdall enjoyed watching the tale of Harry Potter unfold and was kind enough to explain the situation....else my hand would not be stayed."
"Your battle is with me, Allfather. Not the Midgardians." Fenris said defensively, fear flashing his eyes once more. Odin's face, aggrieved yet firm, did not change. "Strike me down, if your wrath demands an outlet or bring me to some other battlefield where we may finish this once and for all, but do not turn your spear on them. They are innocent."
"Your transformation has revealed many secrets to their eyes, secrets which they are not meant to know." Odin announced heavily, turning to look upon the worn wizards and witches that surrounded them. "Your love for them is indeed great, Fenris Lokison. See how even the possibility of their end creates fear in what was once fearless. I can not allow them to go on with this knowledge, but neither do I desire their spirits."
"Leash me once more." Fenris offered, bowing his head. "But do not hurt them. Please, Allfather, let this be the only gift and mercy that you have shown me."
"My decision has been made." Odin said with heaviness, looking older than normal as he looked upon his grandson. "Harry Potter sacrificed himself to end the dark wizard known as Voldemort and was given a hero's funeral. That is what they shall recall. As for you, Fenris Wolf, Son of Loki: you shall remain banished to Midgard, friendless and alone. Your charge will be to aid those like yourself whom know the hatred of others. So I have said, so let it be done!"
The golden magic of the Odin Force exploded from the Allfather, sweeping over the land of Great Britain like an explosion that shall never be recalled. Admist the explosion was the sorrow filled out of a wolf as it lost all that it loved and could never regain again.