Title: Lady Darkness
Author: Emcee and rain
Rating: R
Summary: Harry and Hermione must confront the Order. Tom makes the final decision in whether Ginny lives or dies.

Author's Notes: Thanks to Pablo for the beta. Lyrics in the chapter title from "Hands of Death (Burn Baby Burn)" by Rob Zombie and Charlie Clauser

Disclaimer: "Harry Potter" and the characters, places and things related to it do not belong to me. They are from the brilliant mind of JK Rowling. They belong to her and her publishers. I am not making any profit from this fan fiction.

xx. 'Sadistic wicked one, still the mortal sting. I am the only one.'

"Hermione?" Harry's voice penetrated Hermione's fuzzy consciousness. She felt his hand on her shoulder. "Hermione, love... Wake up."

Hermione sat up, blinking blearily. She scrubbed her face with her hands. Her fuzzy vision cleared, letting her gaze into Harry's amused face. It took her a moment to remember where she was. They were at the Leaky Cauldron. They had come here after running away from the Dursleys.
Hermione yawned, stretching. "I was just..."

"You were just asleep," Harry whispered, chuckling. He put a hand to her cheek, rubbing her skin with his thumb. "Nothing to be ashamed about."

"I was reading about blood magic." Hermione looked down at the book she had been dozing on. It was still open. The page was crumpled from her head. "I guess I was just tired."

"Nothing wrong with that." Harry slid his arms under Hermione's legs, cradling her in his arms, carrying her to the bed and depositing her gently. "You might prefer somewhere more comfortable." He nibbled her earlobe. "And with me."

"How can you be so calm?" Hermione asked as Harry urged her to lay back. "You ran away from your Aunt and Uncle's house. You know it was protecting you. What if--"

"What?" Harry smile faded. "You expect me to hide with the Muggles for the rest of my life?"

Hermione frowned, shaking her head. "No... Only until Voldemort is dead."

Harry sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Which one are you talking about: Classic or Neo-Voldemort? Because if I'm connected to both of them, odds are I have to kill both of them. And they both want me dead. I'm not going to hide away in that hellhole, waiting for the day when one of them figures out how to get through. That's not how I want to live my life." Harry touched a hand to Hermione's cheek. "I want to live my life with you."

Hermione felt her breath catch in her throat. Harry had mentioned marriage before, she was sure he wasn't serious that time. Now, it felt more honest. She could see it in his eyes. "You... With me?"

Harry nodded, lying down on the bed beside Hermione. Their noses almost touched. "And Sirius, and Remus, and Ron, and the twins, and Mr and Mrs Weasley..." Harry's smile returned slowly. "But mostly you. You said you loved me. You opened up the goddamn floodgates yourself, Hermione. Well, now I'm saying it: I love you. No matter what happens, that's not going to change. I'm going to fight to my dying day just to make sure you're happy."

He tangled a hand in Hermione's bushy hair. She felt the blush rise in her cheeks. "Oh God, my hair must be... After lying on that book..."

"It's fine," Harry murmured, pulling her closer, nuzzling her nose. "You look deliciously rumpled."

Hermione felt her cheeks grow hotter. "Stop saying things like that. You're making me blush."

"I want you to blush, Hermione." Harry's voice was a low, soothing coo. "I want you to remember that even with everything bad that's going on, this is still here. What we have." He kissed her deeply. "Dumbledore said it was my mother's love that defeated Voldemort before. Maybe there's something in that. Maybe it could work again." He pulled back, his emerald eyes studying her face carefully. He slid his fingers out of her hair, caressing her face. "Hermione, I want you to marry me."

Hermione sat bolt upright, her jaw dropping. She opened and shut her mouth soundlessly for about a minute. She shut her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Harry." She exhaled. "Take a breath. Think about what you're saying. Really think about what you're saying."

Harry sat up, leaning against his leg. "I have. Hermione, I want you to--"

Putting a finger to his lips, Hermione shook her head. "No, see... You're too smart to say that. You know that we're still in school and that we're young and we've only been dating for a year and--"

Her eyes widened as Harry wordlessly reached into his pocket and drew out a box, opening it. It contained a modest gold and ruby ring. He held it out to her. "I know that we're young and we're in school, but I'm not saying we have to do this tomorrow. I'm saying I love you and you love me. I'm saying that the world might very possibly crash down on our ears. I'm saying that the one thing that keeps me sane while the world is threatening to crash down around our ears is you." He took a deep breath, his chest swelling. "So I'm asking you to take a deep breath. Think about what you're feeling. Really think about what you're feeling." He leaned in, kissing her forehead tenderly. "Let that big old brain of yours listen to your heart. Do you want to be my wife?"

She had spent the last six years of her life loving him. She couldn't remember a time when she didn't love him. Now, he sat before her with a promise of forever. Hermione nodded mutely.

Harry slid the ring onto her finger. He smiled, leaning in and claiming her mouth. "I hope you like it. I got it while you were asleep."

"Harry--" Hermione pushed him away. "We talked about that! It's dangerous enough with just you and me! You shouldn't be going out alone. After what happened with Ollivander and Neville and Lavender..."

"I was fine," Harry snorted. "Don't I look fine? They're not going to attack me. It's not time yet. I know that. Don't lecture me. I just wanted to do something special, something romantic, without it becoming a whole big issue with the Order. Why do you think I asked you to come here, instead of going to the new Headquarters? I wanted it to just be you and me."

Hermione covered her face with her hands. She could feel the cold metal of her new engagement ring on her finger. She knew full well that Dumbledore was sending members of the Order to come retrieve Harry because she went and contacted them. She wanted him to be safe. "I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione whispered, her voice trembling.

"Hey, it's all right." Harry pulled her into his lap, stroking her hair. He leaned in, kissing her neck. "You just agreed to marry me. I think that guarantees you a few days of happy Harry fun time. I'll try my best not to get pissed off at you."

Hermione was just beginning to enjoy Harry's attentions when there was a knock at the door.

"Harry?" Hermione's heart filled with dread when she recognized the voice.

Harry obviously recognized it to, as he pulled away from Hermione. A low growl escaped his throat. He got off the bed, stalking to the door. He stalked to the door, glaring at it. "What do you want, Remus?"

"We want to talk to you. Hermione told us you were here."

Hermione shrank down as Harry turned his penetrating gaze onto her. He set his jaw, crossing his arms over his chest. "Remember what I said about happy Harry fun time? I think you just voided that."

She sighed, falling back on the bed. She shut her eyes, working the ring off of her finger. This was not the way for a proposal to go. She knew Harry needed to be safe, but she obviously had gone about it the wrong way. "Just let him in, Harry," Hermione sighed. "You know Remus isn't going to leave."

Harry opened the door. Hermione sat up slightly, to see not only Remus, but Bill, Tonks and Emmeline Vance. She waved feebly. "Hi."

"Blimey, Hermione!" Tonks pushed passed Remus, tripping over the threshold. "Where did you get that rock in your hand?"

"Oh." Hermione felt the blush rise in her cheeks. "Harry asked me to marry him. But I expect he'll want it back now that he knows I contacted you."

Harry sighed, running a hand through his hair. He looked absolutely exasperated. "I'm pissed off. It's not like I don't love you anymore. Put the damn thing back on your finger."

She was tempted to shoot back at him that he was completely lacking in romantic sentiment, but before she could get a word out she realized challenging him probably wasn't the best thing to do. Challenging an angry Harry was like poking a nesting dragon with a stick. It was not something one did and expected to get out of alive. She slid the ring back on, happy to feel it back around her finger. Though it had only been there a few moments, it already felt natural.

"Harry," Remus sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He looked utterly exhausted. He seemed to have quite a bit of trouble moving around, choosing instead to lean against the wall. "The Headmaster gave you strict instructions to remain with your Aunt and Uncle. You not only defied those instructions, but you chose to come here to Diagon Alley, a place we know Tom Riddle has been instead of Order Headquarters."

"I want to be alone," Harry said. Hermione watched as his whole demeanour changed. He slumped his shoulders, shoving his hands in his pockets. He looked up at Remus through his thick black fringe. "I wanted to be alone with Hermione."

"You know it's not safe..." Remus said gently.

"What makes Headquarters safer?" Harry asked, snarling. "Is it Sirius making googly eyes at Mrs. Higashiyama? Or is it watching you limp around, trying like hell to convince people you're fine after very nearly dying a very slow and painful death?" Harry chuckled coldly. "Or maybe it's the Weasleys looking at me, their eyes begging to know why I couldn't save Ginny." He raised his chin defiantly. "Tell me Remus... Why is Headquarters safer?"

Hermione wanted to get off the bed. She wanted to go to Harry's side and reassure him. Yet something kept her glued to her spot. Maybe it was his icy fury. Maybe it was because she knew nothing she said would make him feel any better. Maybe it was because she knew, in his heart he thought he was right.

"Because it's Headquarters, you great prat," Bill muttered. He took a step forward. "It's charmed and warded so Death Eaters can't get in, unlike this place. Hell, this room couldn't even keep a vampire out. And for the record, I don't blame you for Ginny turning. I blame Ginny for Ginny turning. Not everything is your bloody fault. The fate of the whole world doesn't rest on your shoulders--"

Harry looked about to say something, but Bill shook his head. "No, Harry. It doesn't. People are responsible for their own damn choices. Now you've got to make a choice. Either you act like a petulant little prick and hide here with your fiancee-- who, by the way, is worried sick about you-- or you suck it up and come to Headquarters with us. You always want us to let you into the Order, to treat you like an adult. Now act like one."

Harry turned to Hermione, an imploring look in his eyes. Hermione frowned, seeing the uncertainty and pain lying there. He wanted her to say something, to reassure him. She smiled gently, finally standing up. "You said you wanted to spend as much time as you could with Sirius, and Remus, and Ron, and the twins, and Mr and Mrs Weasley..." She took his hand. "You can't really do that if you're not there, right?"

Harry scowled, but there was a light to it. "You're too smart for your own good."

Remus chuckled. "That's why they call it 'better half', Harry. By the way, we need to have a discussion about this. As your emergency backup godfather, may I remind you that you are only seventeen and still--"

Hermione felt the blush rise in her cheeks again. Harry waved Remus off as he crossed the room to repack his trunk. "Just hold it for now, Remus. I'm sure Sirius will want to lecture me too. Might as well do it all at once."

There had to be another way. There just had to be another way!

Tom paced at the foot of the bed. Ginny was asleep again, his perfect little doll, so pale and still. Soon it wouldn't be sleep that kept her still. The life was running out of her quickly.

He could feel it. He could feel the basilisk poison working through her system, gnawing away at her tender insides.

This was his fault. He had caused all of this. She was dying because of him.

Tom had told Voldemort he loved her. It was under duress, he needed to know the cure, but he could not deny it now. It was a truth, it was real. He loved Ginevra Molly Weasley. She was his princess and he could not let her slip away.

Yet it was happening. He could not stop it. As long as one of them lived, the other died. Voldemort had told him that plainly. Ginny could not live without Tom's death. She needed his essence to revive herself.

Tom knew that, because Voldemort knew that. Voldemort knew that because--

"Tom?" Ginny whispered.

He slid onto the bed beside her, stroking her raven hair. Her eyes were dim, the life draining from them. He gently kissed her forehead. "You should be resting, my princess."

"There's nothing you can do, is there?"

Her lower lip trembled. Her nose crinkled. A single black tear slid down her cheeks. Her freckles stood out so drastically against her pallid skin.

It was in that moment he made the choice. He needed to try it. He could not watch her die. He had grown accustomed to the warm feelings she stirred up inside him. He enjoyed them. They made him feel good. He did not want to know how he would feel if they were suddenly gone.

"There's something I can do." Tom smiled as warmly as he could. He kissed her forehead, her nose, her cheeks and finally her lips. "You're going to be fine. I know what to do now."

He drew the knife from his belt, gripping it tightly in his hands. Blood was best taken without magic. It could taint the spell. He turned her hand over, brushing his lips against her palm. "This will sting, love."

She whimpered when the blade pierced her flesh. Tom steeled himself. He couldn't stop because of her hurt. She would hurt more if he didn't proceed. He pressed the dagger deeper, letting the blood slid down the knife, collecting in a dish. "It's all right, Ginny. I promise. You'll be all right."

He tapped her hand with his wand, mending the wound. He slid up, looking down at her. She stared at him, her eyes filled with tears. He watched for a moment, trying to stay neutral.

"I know what you're doing," Ginny rasped. "It's not worth it."

"Of course its worth it," Tom whispered. He kissed her gently, before standing up. "It's for the best. It's the way it's suppose to be."

He took a deep breath, trying to prepare himself for what was to come.

"Tom--"

His stomach lurched as the world spun. He opened his eyes, smiling.

"What did I do to deserve another visit so soon?" His back was to the voice, but the cool hissing was unmistakable.

"You win, Voldemort," Tom whispered. "I can't live without my Ginny."

Voldemort chuckled. "You are weak, Young One. Letting a silly little girl affect you so."

Tom turned, smirking at the snake-like figure. "You didn't let me finish." He threw the bowl at Voldemort. The earthenware shattered against his face, the ebony blood sliding down his pale flesh. "I can't live without my Ginny. But you can't live with her."

He began to recite the words, staring deep into those crimson eyes. Usually slits, they were now wide with horror and shock.

The language of the spell was ancient, but Tom knew what they meant. He knew what they meant because Voldemort knew what the meant. Because they were the same.

When Tom stopped chanting, Voldemort hissed in a breath. "You can't kill me. I know that much. I know only he can."

"If anyone on this Earth can kill you I can," Tom laughed, "I am you. There is nothing you can do that I cannot. Only, you're going to die in--" He leaned in. "How long do you think it will be? You said it would be nearly instantaneous for us."

"You--" Voldemort reached out to him.

"We're the same. You said it yourself. If my death can save her, than so can yours." Tom pulled back, smirking. "It's not without its poetry. Both times you have died, it's been because of love. That Mudblood's love for her son, my love for Ginny... Really makes you think... If you had just learned what love was, maybe you would be spared now." Tom slid his fingers around the wand Voldemort was clutching. It felt right in his hand, an old friend found after so many years. "It does seem to be a powerful thing. I will use it to my advantage when I take over for you. Me and my Dark Lady."

With a choked cry, Voldemort's life slipped away from him. Tom stood over him, twirling his wand between his fingers.

"Master?" A robe figure entered the room. He was crouched down low. When he saw the prostrate body, he tugged his hood off, revealing a saggy, fair-haired man. He ran to Voldemort's corpse. "Master!" He looked up at Tom, trembling, his watery eyes filled with terror. "What happened to the Dark Lord?"

Tom towered over his new disciple. "Lord Voldemort is dead." He cocked his head, smirking. "I am Lord Voldemort."

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