Author's Note:

I would like to apologize for how long this has taken me to get this out. Besides working at a hospital during the covid crisis, dealing with a move, I ended up with a cast on my arm due to having torn cartilage and ligament. I am still suffering from the same issue and will probably be facing surgery. It's painful to spend time on a laptop, it's painful to be on my cellphone, and even painful to play on my Nintendo Switch for an extended period of time. Sometimes it's even painful to spend time drawing especially since I got my latest shot.

But I decided I wanted to finish this fanfic. I didn't want to leave people wondering.

I hate the fact that trying to pick up this fanfic again was like pulling teeth, nails, and dragging it across a chalkboard. This is far from perfect but I would start writing, hate it, delete what I was writing. This is the most satisfactory of it all in the past month. I hope that what I have written, no matter how brief is enjoyable and it does give you that sense of closure...even if the ending is a bit open-ended. I hope to maybe one day revisit Lotus Potter and this fanfic and perhaps re-write it.

So yeah, this chapter is short, but it's done. This fanfic is done.

xoxo

The letter came at breakfast. It was more an invitation than a letter. Lightning stared at the Malfoy crest. There were moments even now she hated such luxury for it was a reminder of what she had been denied growing up. Lightning tapped the parchment in thought. She was unsure how to answer to it. Lightning was sure the request did not from Narcissa but from the Dark Lord himself.

"What do you have?" Tom sat next to her. Lightning pushed the invitation towards Tom. They sit together quietly. Lightning glances over at Tom to see him contemplating the letter. She prepares herself a cup of tea. She takes a sip just as he places the letter down.

"Invite her here instead," Tom said.

"You and I know it is not from her that this...comes," Lightning trails off.

"It was bound to happen." Tom tapped his fingers on the table. Dark eyes came to rest on his pale female companion. Lightning gave him a lopsided smile.

"I like my freedom thank you and I would not to become the next Rapunzel. Do you?" Tom does not answer her but Lightning does not need his answer.

"Fine. Fine!" Lightning stomps away from the breakfast table.

Red eyes clashed with pale eyes but Lightning quickly averted her gaze. Her Occlumency had never been as strong against Riddle's Legilimency. Her eyes darted over to Tom whose face was like the calmest of waters surfaces. She was still inadequate. Her heart pounded in her chest. Would her life become locked in the tallest of towers?

"How did this come to be?" Voldemort's voice was deeper than Tom's.

A bitter laugh arose unchecked, "I am Lotus Potter. Before you go raising your wand, realize your goals and mine are relatively close. I have kept your soul piece safe too."

"So you have," Voldemort said. Lightning eyed Voldemort's wand that was tapping his knee. She remembered all the times she had been cursed. "Tell me what have you been up to...Lotus Potter."

"I prefer Lightning Black. Lotus Potter is officially dead for all purposes. It would not suit your purposes to resurrect my old name for the simple fact rebels would use it as a rallying point. I have an alias, Laura Ingram. I write for The Brightest Lumos. Though I have submitted select works to other newspapers and journals for publications relating to politics. This is my current project in aiming to educate and agitate the masses," Lightning admitted. She titled her head and a playful smile appeared.

"I hope you have read some of my pieces. They are quite delightful."

"Yes, a few before," Voldemort admitted. He studied that playful expression that was a mask for whatever the girl was hiding. "They are rather moderate in comparison to my goals."

"I do not lead by hyperbole but by logic and facts. You can make far more appeal to the people when you use data against them. The emotional appeal to people I write under a different name, Cassia Thorne." Lightning crosses her legs and leans back, relaxing in the chair and a half. Her arms remain loose at her sides. She is not a threat. He is not a threat. She is safe. Lightning's eyes darted over Voldemort's serpentine features before fixing on the green wallpaper.

"Ah yes, Cassia Thorne. Her pieces are far more seditious. Outside of writing what have you been doing?" Voldemort grilled her first, those eyes piercing into her. She ignored them. Tom disliked weakness and Voldemort was an older Tom. Drawing on Occlumency helped to soothe the strongest of anxieties pounding away with the beat of her heart. She had never risked her life or his existence. Would it be enough?

The Potter graves had dead flowers around them. Lightning took out her wand and banished them. She placed the fresh flowers upon the graves for a moment. She paused staring at James and Lily's graves. Lightning heaved a sigh. She touched the grave for a moment.

"What would you think of me now?" Lightning whispered. "Would you be disappointed? I think you would be. Then again, I wonder what you think of what Dumbledore did. I will never truly know because you never lived."

Lightning tucked her pale hair behind her ear. It was time to go. Tonight Voldemort would officially take over all of Britain. The rebels had been hard-pressed to even fight back against the overwhelming numbers of Voldemort's forces. More and more people joined up with Voldemort as the tide turned. It was not like there was an Albus Dumbledore to turn to. There was no Lotus Potter as a rallying cry.

There was a crack of apparition. "I see you are here."

"I thought I would pay my respects to my birth parents," Lightning admitted to Tom.

"Ironic that you would pick today of all days."

"Yes but I was feeling sentimental. I may carry your soul, but I am my person still." Lightning slid her hands into her robes pockets and started walking away. Tom followed her.

"Darling, I would never suggest that." Lightning came to stop before Sirius' grave. She touched it too.

"Perhaps. How is the speech for tonight?"

"Do you think we would not come up with a perfect speech?" Lightning snorts at this.

"I had every faith."

"He sent me to retrieve you."

"It is that time?"

"Soon, but he wishes for you to be dressed up for your part."

"Ah." Lightning stood there with her eyes closed. "Let's go then."

Lightning grasped onto Tom's arm. There was a crack of apparition and appeared through the wards of Voldemort's home. Voldemort was waiting for them.

"You will find your clothes in your room. Change right away and meet us here," Voldemort ordered her. Lightning did not even respond other than to nod. She left the two men standing in the hallway. There was a delicate dance to it all. Voldemort was still more knowledgeable more than her. One day, she hoped to find a way to free herself from the horcrux without her death. Tempering Voldemort was a struggle. Lightning was afraid she would one day push to hard and her freedom would be taken from her.

The outfit that laid across Lightning's bed was a black dress with silver lace. Upon closer inspection she could see the dark green thread that wove runic protection into it. There was a matching open robe with it that had the Black Family crest adorning it as well as the Slytherin. She almost choked at that. Lightning exchanged her more muggle fashion for the way Voldemort desired to dress her up. Playing doll was her least favorite task.

Stepping before the mirror Lightning stared at her hair critically. The dark colors were a reminder of how pale she was. Lightning released her wand from her holster and spelled her hair into a double waterfall braided hairstyle. It would be fancy enough. She paused in the mirror, staring at herself.

Sometimes, in these private moments it was strange to see herself. Did the world see her? Did Voldemort see her for who she was? She was intelligent, but she was a young woman striving to cut herself free from the forces of destiny. Yet even as she struggled that red thread had choked her. She was bound to those bastards as much as they to her. What would be the cost for freedom?

Pale gray eyes bore into the mirror reflection before they hardened. It was time to go. She squared her shoulders and smoothed out her face. Her Occlumency had only gotten better. The Grand Canyon was not carved in a year. She had time. Lightning left her room and met the two men in the foyer. She met brown eyes and red eyes, so dissimilar and similar simultaneously.

"It's showtime." The three of them Apparated onto the stage where Voldemort's elite Death Eaters awaited them. Lightning's face is a mask of pleasantness as she greets them before she steps into place besides Tom and Voldemort. She glances over at the crowd and the reporters. Lucius Malfoy steps up to the podium to briefly speak. She doesn't listen, doesn't care. It's the same dribble.

Britain has fallen. From the ashes this country will arise anew. Voldemort arose from his death, his ashes too, stronger than ever. It was a tale as old as time. Lotus Potter was dead and Lightning Black arose and her story was not done yet, not by a long shot. She had a huge battle in front of her. Sinking her teeth into immortality was just the beginning of it all. She has her ambitions after all. There is no good or evil, only knowledge, and the intent to which you shall apply it.