Title: Lady Darkness
Author: Emcee and rain
Rating: R
Summary: Harry, Draco and Lucius have very different reactions to Tom's murder of Voldemort.

Author's Notes: Thanks to Pablo for the beta. Lyrics in the chapter title from "Won't Get Fooled Again" by Pete Townshend.

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.

xxi. 'Meet the new boss, same as the old boss.'

His mind was muddled, the thoughts flashing in his head randomly. The only thing that connected the disjointed images was the pain. Hot, fiery agony pierced through his mind.

"Harry?" The voice barely penetrated his psyche. He needed to come back to that voice. It existed outside the blackness of this pain-filled world. He needed to pull himself out.

"Harry? Come on." He felt something cool against his burning scar.

The pain slowly began to wane, letting him come back to his senses. His eyes fluttered open. The light was blinding. He could see unclear outlines of people hovering about him.

Where was he? The last thing he could remember clearly was getting off the Knight's Bus with Hermione, Remus, Bill, Tonks and Miss Vance. He had been holding Hermione's hand, their fingers laced. He could feel her engagement ring against his skin.

Then the world became hot agony. His scar had felt like it was torn open. The blinding red pain turned to blackness, and he could remember no more.

"Harry?"

He felt his glasses pressed into his hand. His fingers trembled as he slid the glasses onto his face. He was in a bed. Sirius sat on one side, watching him closely. It had been he who had given Harry his glasses. Molly was on his other side, daubing his forehead with a wet cloth. Remus sat at the foot of the bed, a mixture of worry and exhaustion on his face.

He tried to ask what had happened. His tongue was thick and dry, and all that came out was a garbled mess.

"Here." Remus groaned as he got up, picking up a glass of water on the nightstand. Harry felt Sirius' hands on his shoulders, helping him sit up. Remus pressed the glass to Harry's lips, tilting it. Harry gulped down the liquid eagerly, letting it soothe his parched throat.

"You collapsed on the stoop," Sirius explained. "You screamed and clutched your scar."

"We've been very worried." Remus took the now-empty glass and knelt beside Harry. "You've been unconscious for three days."

"Three days?" Harry brought his shaking hand to his forehead, touching his scar. It still hurt. He began to feel dizzy again, his eyes sliding out of focus.

He felt Sirius help him lay back down.

Molly whimpered, adjusting his covers. "It's all right, Harry dear. Just rest. Everything will be fine."

It wasn't fine. He could feel it deep inside him. It slowly trickled back to him. Why he had collapsed. He felt like he was going to vomit, but his stomach was empty.

"Voldemort," he rasped, fighting to sit up. He didn't care if he was dizzy. He needed to push passed this nauseated feeling.

"What about Voldemort?" Remus asked, furrowing his brow. "Has he done something?"

Harry nodded, letting his head sink into the pillow. He took a deep breath. "He died."

"What?" Sirius leapt to his feet. "What do you mean 'he died'?"

"I mean." Harry put a hand to his forehead. "They killed him."

"They..." Molly's voice shook as she pulled away from Harry. "Ginny."

"Tom saved her life," Harry muttered, looking away from Molly. He couldn't meet her eyes, standing to see the hurt look. "She was going to die unless Tom sacrificed himself. He sacrificed Voldemort in his place. He's Lord Voldemort now."

"That doesn't make any sense," Sirius said, pacing. "The prophecy said only you could kill Voldemort."

"It makes perfect sense," Remus said quietly. "With both Voldemort and Tom Riddle alive, the prophecy was skewed. Now Tom had killed Voldemort. In essence, it was never Voldemort Harry had to kill, but Tom Riddle."

Sirius stopped pacing, crossing his arms over his chest. "That still doesn't make any sense, Moony."

Remus gave an apologetic shrug. "It's a prophecy. You never really know what they mean until after they come to pass."

Harry wasn't paying attention to the conversation between Sirius and Remus. He reached out and took Molly's hand. "Mrs. Weasley... I'm sorry."

Slowly, Molly shook her head. "You have nothing to be sorry about, Harry. You didn't do this." The pained expression on her face told Harry all he needed to know. Her heart was breaking for the loss of her daughter. She was starting to realize what Harry himself had known from the start.

Nothing would bring Ginny back. She was no longer Molly and Arthur's daughter. She was the consort of Lord Voldemort. Nothing would sway her from that path. As Tom had been reborn, so had she.

Ginevra slowly opened her eyes. She took a deep breath, feeling the fresh air fill her lungs. She felt like she had been asleep for years.

The world was clearer, brighter. She could feel the luxurious comfort of the bed she lay on. The pain of the cut on her palm tingled through her pleasantly. Her lips curled in a smile as she stretched, her muscles finally working.

She got to her feet gingerly. As she pulled herself up, she felt a sense of vertigo. She clutched her head, shutting her eyes. She swayed dangerously, her body ready to give.

Before she hit the floor, a pair of hands caught her. "Princess," the voice was gentle, but powerful. "You shouldn't be up. You're still weak."

Ginevra's eyes fluttered opened. She looked up at Tom, smiling weakly. "Tom? Is that..."

He looked different. Certainly, he was still her Tom. But there was something different about him. His aura radiated with power.

Slowly, Ginevra smiled. She brought a trembling hand up to Tom's face, cradling his cheek. "You killed him."

Tom nodded. "His life for yours, Princess." He lifted her up, holding her close. "Everything that was his is now mine." He leaned in, kissing her gently. "Ours."

"Ours?" Ginevra repeated.

"Yes, Ginevra," Tom purred. "Ours. Everything that is mine I share with you. It was your sacrifices that got me to this place." He leaned in for another kiss.

Ginevra pulled away before he could brush against her lips. Her eyes were wide in surprise. "You called me..."

"I called you by your true name." Tom laid her down on the bed. He sat beside her. He brought a hand to her fiery hair, stroking it gently. "You can feel it, can't you? You're seeing the world through new eyes. I didn't just save your life, Ginevra. Ginny Weasley died in this bed." He raked his eyes over her hungrily. "You were reborn. You are a new woman, no longer bound to the rules of common wizards." He clutched her hands. "You are Ginevra Riddle. You are Lady Voldemort."

Ginevra took in a deep breath. Her tongue darted out, licking her lips. "Oh, Tom..."

Tom bent down, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "I want you to rest, Princess. You are still quite weak. It will take you quite a bit of time to adjust to the changes in your body. Once the word has spread that my elder self has died the Death Eaters will come to pay tribute to me. They will pay tribute to us, their Lord and Lady. You must be well for that."

Ginevra laid back, smiling. She closed her eyes. "Will they recognize our power?"

Tom grinned. "I will make them recognize our power, my Princess. Those who oppose our rule will die in agony. They will quickly fall into line." He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Wormtail will be taking care of you while you are recovering."

Ginevra's eyes snapped open. "Wormtail?"

"Yes." Tom nodded. "He saw my elder self fall. He is the first of our faithful."

Ginevra shook her head. "He is a lowly worm. I don't trust him."

"He is a coward," Tom replied softly. "He is too afraid to strike against us."

"He hid in my home," Ginevra whispered. "He disguised himself as a rat. I treated him as a pet."

Tom shook his head. "Those are quibbles from another lifetime, Princess. He tricked Ginny Weasley to learn of my rising."

Ginevra pouted. "I played with him. I let him sleep in my bed."

Tom's icy eyes turned red. "What? He dare lay with you?" Tom rose from the bed. "Even as a rat that is unforgivable." He smirked sadistically. "He will pay for his indiscretion. Is the Cruciatus a suitable punishment, my Princess?"

Ginevra nodded. "Yes, Tom."

Tom chuckled. "Good. While he must pay, he is still a useful minion to us. I promise he will suffer." He leaned in, placing a gentle kiss on Ginevra's lips. "Now rest, Princess. I promise when you awake there will be legions of followers bowing at your feet."

Draco paced in front of the door of his father's study. Lucius had been ensconced there since dinner. A man had arrived at the door, cloaked in black robes, his face obscured. Draco had asked who it was, but had immediately been dismissed. Lucius and the robed man then retreated to Lucius' study to confer.

It was not Professor Snape. Whenever he visited, he spoke to Draco. Aunt Bellatrix also spoke to him.

It was one of them. One of the followers Draco had never met. Someone in the Inner Circle. Draco longed to join them. According to Lucius, he was too young, too foolish. Instead, he was forced to listen through doors to discover what the Inner Circle planned. Thankfully, Lucius had neglected his privacy spells.

"Wormtail, you know better to come to my home, in the middle of the day, while my wife and son are home." Lucius drawled casually.

"I'm sorry, Malfoy," the other man simpered, his voice closely resembling that of a House Elf. "It's urgent. Something has happened."

"I felt the mark three days ago. Is that why you've come?" Lucius sounded intrigued. "I wasn't summoned, but I know something has happened."

"It's... It's the Dark Lord. He's... Well, he's not himself anymore." Wormtail's voice was a nervous twitter.

"What, exactly, does that mean, Wormtail?" Lucius asked. "How is the Dark Lord not himself anymore?"

"I mean, Malfoy," Wormtail's voice grew even more panicked. "He's not himself. The Dark Lord was murdered by... The Dark Lord!"

"What does--" Lucius cut himself off. Draco could hear him leap to his feet, knocking over his chair. "Riddle. Riddle murdered the Dark Lord."

"He is no longer Riddle. He is the Dark Lord." Wormtail's voice went higher. "He's claimed the Lordship. He wants an audience with the inner circle."

"I will not bow to that child," Lucius hissed. "He is not the Dark Lord."

The tone in Wormtail's voice immediately changed. He sounded very serious, a touch dangerous. "The Dark Lord thought you would say that, Lucius."

"Wormtail? What are you--"

"CRUCIO!"

Draco smiled at the sound of his father howling in pain. It amused him terribly when his father was forced to bow before the Dark Lord. His father may have lorded over him, but there was still someone Lucius had to answer to.

Then the screams stopped. "Why you little rat--" Lucius' voice was raspy.

"You were the one to give the diary to the Dark Consort." Wormtail hissed. "This was your doing, Lucius."

"The Dark what?" Lucius laughed. "You don't mean he's taken that little Muggle-loving whore as his wife?"

"She is the Dark Consort," Wormtail said plainly. "She was on the brink of death in the service of our Lord twice and she is still unwaveringly loyal. You can make no such claim, Lucius."

"Neither can you, Pettigrew!" Lucius' voice was a vicious hiss.

"If you deny our Lord and his Consort and do not attend the audience, the inner circle will bring ruin to you and your home." Wormtail spoke evenly, no trace of fear in his voice.

"Do you think I'm afraid of you?" Lucius asked.

"No. But I think you should be afraid of the Dark Lord. He will leave you for last. You will have to watch your wife and son die first."

Draco's stomach twisted at the threat. It wouldn't surprise him if Lucius actually tested the Dark Lord. Let him and his mother die and then recant before his own end was brought.

Draco needed to get his own power, free himself from the shackles of Lucius.

Maybe this shake up within the Inner Circle would be the way to go about it.

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Part Twenty-Two