Wings of Death

Disorientation.

That was the first thing that Harry felt as he found consciousness stirring from some dark part of his mind, his whole body shuddering with a feeling of victory and pleasure as he felt a cool summer's breeze blowing across his face.

'I…I really did it,' thought Harry, allowing his eyes to open halfway so that he could see part of the area that surrounded him. 'I'm back…but when?'

"Kill the spare!"

At the sound of the icy cold voice that echoed through the area around him, Harry's eyes widened and his head shot upright just in time to see Peter Wormtail Pettigrew strike down Cedric Diggory with the Avada Kedavra Curse.

As the green flash filled his eyes, it gave Harry an icy feeling as he remembered the last time that he'd seen the flash near his body: well, maybe near was the wrong term since, as was evident from the fact that Harry was back in the graveyard at the end of his fourth year, his ritual had clearly worked and his 'death' had given life to the second chance that the emerald-eyed scion needed.

Of course, this time, Harry would make sure that his would-be murderer wound up tasting defeat and humiliation…and then he would have Harry's permission to die.

As Wormtail approached Harry's own downed form, the dark-haired scion drew on the strength that had been given to him by his ritual's power and the strength that he had regained from a time beyond time. With this strength coursing through his veins, it was rather easy for Harry to reach up with one hand and, to the shock of the traitor, the wand of Lord Voldemort flew from Wormtail's fingers and into Harry's hand.

As soon as flesh met magic, Harry let out an ecstatic roar of triumph as raw, untapped magical energy coursed through his veins; at the same time, lightning flashed across the skies while the cauldron that lay in the center of the graveyard's ritual space suddenly burst into flames, the eerily-dark colors of the flames illuminating the pleasure that Harry felt as he stood there.

"What…what is this magic?" demanded Wormtail, earning a soft, but cold laugh from Harry as he lowered his head for only a moment; when he looked up again, the rat-faced traitor let out a gasp of horror as he saw Harry's green eyes had become a cold, piercing shade of electric blue while his skin seemed to have paled to an almost-deathly shade while his facial structure had become narrow, proud-looking and almost elf-like in appearance with his sharp cheekbones and narrow, but handsome features

In the arms of the traitor, the bundle that was Lord Voldemort let out a shaky, rattlesnake-like hiss as he gasped, "It…it cannot be…"

"Oh, but it can," said Harry, rotating his chin while he looked to the bundle in the arms of the traitor, "But please don't let me stop you from doing what you wanted to do, sir: we can talk more once you're human again. In fact, here…"

Then, to the shock of both Voldemort and Wormtail, Harry lifted his hand and, waving it in a weird, but magical-looking gesture, he conjured what looked like a solid silver dagger, which was engraved with emeralds that were fixed into the eyes of the snake-shaped hilt and handle.

Approaching the cauldron, Harry then lifted the dagger before, cutting sharply and willingly across his palm, he allowed a large amount of his blood to fall into the mixture while he declared, "Blood of the forsaken child, willingly returned to his sire shall restore the ways of darkness!"

"Lucien," hissed Voldemort, earning an amused look from the blue-eyed Harry as he cocked his head to one side with an inquisitive look.

"Lucien?" asked Harry, his voice edged by curiosity as he asked, "Is that my real name? The Light? How ironic…still, I suppose it's better than being named Harry James…"

"Master!" exclaimed Wormtail, watching as 'Harry' began using the wand that he held to finish what he'd started; he offered the bone of Tom Riddle Senior before looking over at Wormtail, who shrank back in fear at the coldness in the boy's eyes. "Who…what is this? Who is that?"

"That is someone that you will now obey, Wormtail!" hissed Voldemort, his dark voice cutting through Wormtail's fear as he commanded, "Finish the rite: now! Do what you were bidden to do, you coward!"

As Wormtail approached, however, Harry struck again: this time, he used his dagger to cut at the hand that Wormtail didn't have a missing finger on, earning him a pained scream from the rat while Harry told him, "I've waited years to do that to you, Peter!"

As Wormtail began to bleed out on the ground, Harry turned and, holding the severed hand over the cauldron, he declared, "Flesh of the unworthy, forcibly-taken shall give life and form to the Great Darkness!"

At Harry's last words, Voldemort actually let out a cry of pain and disbelief as what could only be described as a black gaseous substance began to bleed out of the cauldron, slithering across the floor until it reached the spot where Wormtail had dropped the bundle onto the ground. As the smoke reached the spot where Voldemort lay, another flash of lightning seemed to split the skies open before striking at the ground.

In the midst of the collision of magic and nature, Harry then lifted the wand once before he added, "The Darkness…shall rise…again!"

As the smoke began to clear from the lightning strike, both Harry and Wormtail let out gasps, although Harry's was a gasp of success and incredible emotion while Wormtail's was a gasp of disbelieving horror.

Instead of a snake-faced monster with red eyes and pale, hairless skin, there was instead a tall, handsome-looking gentleman of a figure that had a hair of short, slick black hair and pale, but not sickly-looking skin. His eyes were still red, but as the elation vanished from his glare, the red shade became a cool, empowered shade of brown that looked at Harry curiously.

Stepping around the cauldron, Harry met the eyes of the reborn Lord Voldemort before he dipped his head courteously as he offered the wand and the dagger to the man as though he was a knight offering fealty to his king.

However, it was the next thing that Harry said that really changed everything for both magic users as they stood barely inches apart;

"Your wand…Father…"

The Dark Lord, curiosity and interest in his brown eyes, extended a hand and took the wand from Harry; however, rather than taking the dagger with it, the pale-skinned man just eyed the wand before he looked to the teenager standing in front of him, taking in the sight of such an impossible feat.

At least, to Tom Riddle, it was impossible.

"My…" gasped the dark sorcerer, actually extending a hand as he cupped Harry's pale, sharp-looking cheekbones in his grip, his eyes looking right into the electric-blue eyes of the dark scion as he asked, "My son?"

"Yes Father," said Harry, taking hold of the hand that was pressed against his cheek as he explained, "I'm back…in more ways than one."

"But…I don't…I do not understand," exclaimed Tom, looking right into Harry's new eyes as he told him, "I was informed…"

"I know," interrupted Harry, now looking past Tom to the cowering, bloody figure at the Dark Lord's feet as he asked, "And who was it that informed you of my death, Father? Who told you of how Mother had died shielding me from the Order and who convinced you that their loyalties were only to you and your cause?"

Tom rounded so quickly that the robes that he was dressed in – the same robes that Harry recalled from the other time – billowed around him like bat wings; at the same time, he held his wand out to Wormtail as he asked, "Is this true, Worm? Did you betray me just as easily as you betrayed your friends, Lily and James, to me?"

"I…" began Wormtail, but before he could say another word, the rat-faced man let out an ear-piercing scream that was only emphasized by the fierce, terrifying writhing motions of his body.

As Tom looked back at Harry, he was surprised to see the young boy's eyes had hardened until they seemed to resemble lightning caught in pure crystal – also known as fulgurite – the murderously-charged blueness of his eyes alarming Tom as he saw the power of the boy that, for the longest time, he had tried to kill.

'How could I have been deceived this easily?' wondered the Dark Lord, lifting a hand before, placing it on Harry's shoulder, he told him, "That's enough, Harry: you still have need of him. Let him go for now so that you can enjoy yourself more later."

"As you wish," growled Harry, releasing Wormtail from the power of the wandless Crucio that he'd held the man under; as he did so, he also looked up to Voldemort as he told him, "If you want answers, Father, then I will give them to you, but first, can you tell me what my real name is? I know it's not Harry and you called me Lucien, so…"

"Your name," answered Tom, a look of pride as well as guilt filling his eyes as he told him, "Is Lucien Salazar Riddle, my son and heir…and I am so sorry for not seeing it sooner."

Harry, or Lucien as he chose to call himself from then on, actually smiled as he told the Dark Lord, "By the time you did, it was already too late."

Tom's eyes narrowed in confusion, but Lucien just shook his head as he added, "Oh, and for the record, Father, Mum's not dead either: she's alive!"

"Morgana?" asked Tom, earning a slow nod from Lucien as he asked, "Where? How do you know this, my son?"

"Trust me, my lord," answered Lucien, his eyes shining like blue fulgurite once more as he explained, "You'd never believe me in a million years."