ARC 6

PART 3: Revelations.

Harry couldn't move. Not even a muscle. His arms were stuck to his sides and his legs were stiff as wood with the invisibility cloak on him. Try as he might, he could not get out . 'Come on, how do I get out?' He thought. 'May be if I summon my wand?' He then visualized the wand coming back to his hand. He poured his intent out as Dumbledore used to instruct him, specifically to get the wand back in his hand. His Holly and Phoenix feather wand slowly rose up into the air, but not towards Harry, rather directly upwards and it shot towards his hand but stopped just short of his fingers. 'Just great, I can't even hold my own bloody wand. What a way to start of this year. Lying down on the floor of the Hogwarts Express, with blood gushing down my nose and my Invisibility Cloak on me. Great. Just great.'

He then heard a distant compartment door being slid open then shut. 'Someone is still on? I hope they find me,' he thought. Then the door to the Slytherin compartment opened up and came forth Myhaver Slughorn, suspiciously looking around and then he kept on walking towards the other entrance to the Slytherin compartment, a little behind Harry's prone figure. 'Yes…yes…a bit closer…nearly there…BLOODY HELL!' he thought as Myhaver's hard boot clashed against the sole of Harry's foot which led to him to stumble on his footing for a brief moment. Myhaver yelled out, "What in the name of Merlin's balls was THAT?" Then tracing back to where he hit his foot, he smacked it again, not knowing he was hitting Harry's sole every single time, he bent over and then waved his hand on the floor, searching for the thing which he was continuously smacking.

His hand then touched a silvery fabric and he pulled it up only to find Harry. "Potter?" He began, "What are yo- oh dearie me- let's get you up, shall we?" And then he dispelled the petrification charm and hoisted Harry up by his wand arm and picked up his wand. Before Harry could say anything, Myhaver touched his nose with the tip of his wand and whispered out, "Episkey."

As Harry heard the incantation, he felt a familiar cold sensation, emanate throughout his nose and an audible snap as the nose put itself back in its original place, perfectly aligned.

And then Myhaver tugged on his hand and pulled him off of the compartment with him, cloak in tow.

The older of the two then flicked his wand and sent his patronus towards the castle. After that, Myhaver worriedly asked before Harry could thank him, "What were you doing there on the floor? Are you alright?"

Harry sighed out. As he scratched the back of his neck, he could not think how he could think how he could explain the whole scenario. He thought, 'Well, this is going to be a bitch to explain.'

Licking his lips before contemplating what to say, he began.

"You see Professor...I had seen Malfoy threatening the owner of Borgin and Burkes by showing him something on his arm and asking him if he could fix a particular thing."

"Oh really? Wrap your cloak around your neck and let's start walking towards the castle, it's cold out here," Myhaver instructed as he put his hands in the pockets of his robes and set off, Harry tailing him.

He slowed down his pace and commanded, "Tell me more."

Without a word, Harry complied and continued, "From what else I could remember him saying, he said that if he spreads the word of this, he would set Fenrir Greyback on hi-"

"Fenrir Greyback is dead."

Harry did a double-take on this. Confused, he asked, "Wait what?"

"Yes, he was killed on the night of the attack on the Weasley's home. Alastor killed him personally."

Harry slowly thought about the repercussions of the wolfman's death and what effects it would have. Sure, Remus would be happy, so a plenty of parents would be relieved that the wolf is dead. But this is just going to piss off Voldemort all the more.

"Have you ever thought about the ramifications of this, Professor? Have you ever thought that the Dark Werewolves might plan and extract retribution?"

Myhaver looked stoic as he kept walking.

"That I have, Mister Potter. But think about this, one of Riddle's most powerful warriors is dead. And slowly the other Werewolves would most likely be killed off in this war, bar a few who are smart enough to stay out of it. But the number of lupine people which side with Tom, are most likely going to be hunted and the bastard is going to have less Werewolf mutants."

Harry was confused. Mutants? What? But he didn't realize he voiced his questions out aloud and Myhaver was currently answering him.

"-work has been found in our latest raid on one of the manors that Riddle was researching on how to make the Werewolves sustain their forms and stay in wolf form despite having no moonlight."

"Rotten twat."

"Couldn't agree anymore, Harry. And some – shall we say – more…. abhor-worthy work."

"Like what?"

"Do you seriously want to know, Harry?"

"Yes, I want to, Professor."

Looking around, Myhaver put up sound-proofing wards to speak freely.

"He was trying to summon the bat god of darkness, Camazotz and the death bat, Titanus Camazotz."

Harry didn't understand what they were but he recognized the latter.

"Titanus Camazotz? You mean..." Harry screwed up his eyes as he tried to remember what the creature was and what it looked like.

From what he had learnt during his time as Albus Dumbledore's protégé was that, the Titanus Camazotz resembled a giant demonic bat, with rough brown skin, fur on his chest and back, a comparatively small head with jagged horns and sharp teeth, and large shredded wings adorned with sharp, bone-like protrusions. Its eyes are red, and one of its horns is broken. Camazotz also possessed a long, spiky tail.

Finally decided to speak out, Harry asked, "The demonic beat which looked like it came from the literal pits of hell?"

"Yes."

"What about it?"

Myhaver scratched his goatee and spoke, "Recent reports have shown us that the Camazotz we were tracking, was trying to kill Kong to claim the title of an Alpha Titan, but it however was killed off by Kong. And to our surprise," at this Myhaver stopped dead in his tracks and looked into Harry's eyes and continued, "Another one has risen. This one seems more powerful than the last one and the ones who venture into the darkest corners of Skull Island, are likely to be killed by it. This one has slight resistance to sunlight and even ventures out once or twice – but always retreats back- in broad daylight. So far – the sun has been strong so it cannot come out but I fear if it can cause a major blackout and run amok."

"What do we do to stop the Camazotz?"

"We need Kong – the world needs him. To stop what's coming – if the Camazotz does decide to run amok one day on a Solar Eclipse. Or makes the jump to cause havoc one night. Because if he does, then pray Merlin save us all."

They walked on in silence before a question piped up within Harry.

"Professor- if you don't mind- but how exactly did de-aging potions make you youthful? Aren't they supposed to - y'know- de-age you? I haven't heard of any such potion during my time learning under Professor Dumbledore."

Myhaver let out a short, brisk laugh at that and began answering his question.

"Oh H-Harry," he began, his voice a little airy due to the laugh, "I didn't really mean the actual de-aging potions. They need to be taken at regular intervals to keep that young body. The de-aging potions I actually talked about were illusion charms in the form of a potion."

Harry stopped right in his tracks.

"Wait what?" and then he quickened his pace to catch up with Myhaver who was walking at a relative quick pace.

"You heard that right, Mister Potter. Since I used to operate in the muggle world and I still sometimes do, I can't always go around re-applying the charm with my wand, now, can I? That too in the muggle world no less."

Harry furrowed his brows in confusion as he turned around to face him and asked, "But how do you constantly consume the potion without raising eyebrows of other people?"

Myhaver wore an expression of calmness as he spoke, "Some people in the muggle world tend to carry a canteen or a bottle of water wherever they go. So, I carried the potion around in a canteen and drank from it. Muggles mostly thought it was water."

"But what did you do when people asked for it?"

"That is something which makes me thankful for magic. You see, there are specific potions which fail to work on muggles. Yes, they can brew but some specific potions- keep this in mind Mister Potter- Some potions like the illusionary potions fail to work on them."

He looked into Harry's eyes once before he continued, "So technically, the potion would taste like water to them and the magical ingredients would be rendered useless as the required temperature to brew concoction, makes quick work of the ingredients. So, barely anything is left when the potion is finished. "

"But how does the potion work then?"

"It takes help of the magic present within the consumer."

"How much magic does it take?"

"Barely any magic."

"So that's why it's drunk that much, Professor?"

"Yes Harry."

Following that educational conversation was a silent trek up the dark, deserted lane, following the freshly made carriage tracks. Harry looked sideways at Myhaver under his cloak just to make sure that he is still there.

Having always travelled there by carriage, Harry had never before appreciated just how far Hogwarts was from Hogsmeade Station. With great relief he finally saw the tall pillars on either side of the gates, each topped with a winged boar, flames emanating through the nostrils, mouth, eyes and ears of the said boars. He was cold, he was hungry, and he was eager to crash his head on his pillows in Gryffindor Tower.

But when he put out a hand to push open the gates, he found them chained shut. "Alohomora!" he said confidently, pointing his wand at the padlock, but nothing happened. So, he tried another unlocking spell, a more powerful variant of the Alohomora, " Reserare hoc!" but that also didn't work unfortunately.

"That won't work on these," said Slughorn. "Dumbledore bewitched them himself." Harry looked around.

"I could climb a wall," he suggested. "No, you couldn't," said Myhaver flatly. "Anti-intruder jinxes on all of them. Security's been tightened a hundredfold this summer."

"Well then," said Harry, starting to feel annoyed at his lack of helpfulness, "I suppose I'll just have to sleep out here and wait for morning."

"Someone's coming down for you," said Myhaver. "Look."

A lantern was bobbing at the distant foot of the castle. Harry was so pleased to see it he felt he could even endure Filch's wheezy criticisms of his tardiness and rants about how his timekeeping would improve with the regular of thumbscrews. It was not until the glowing yellow light was ten feet away from them, and Harry had pulled off his Invisibility Cloak so that he could be seen, that he recognized, with a rush of pure loathing, the hooked nose and long, black, greasy hair of Severus Snape.

"Well, well, well," sneered Snape, taking out his wand and tapping the padlock once, so that the chains snaked backward and the gates creaked open. "Nice of you to turn up, Potter, although you have evidently decided that the wearing of school robes would detract from your appearance."

"I couldn't change, I didn't have my —" Harry began, but Snape cut across him.

"There is no need to wait, Slughorn, Potter is quite — ah — safe in my hands."

"I meant Hagrid to get my message," Myhaver replied, frowning.

"Hagrid was late for the start-of-the-term feast, just like Potter here, so I took it instead. And incidentally," said Snape, standing back to allow Harry to pass him, "Headmaster Dumbledore requires your presence in his office after dinner."

He then allowed him in and continued his talk.

"And you are," said Snape, malice prevalent like the moonlight which was falling on them, "in my opinion, not prepared for what he is going to share with you."

As Snape swung the lantern about, Harry fleetingly saw the look of confusion and the brief look of worry on Myhaver's face as his face was shrouded by darkness as he stood still in areas where the light of the flames of the boars did not reach.

"Goodnight," Harry called out to him as he began to walk up to the school with Snape. Realizing something, he called out, "How are you going to get in?"

"There is another entrance for staff members only Harry. I am going to use that and also, goodnight."

"Night," and then Myhaver walked away.

Snape did not speak for a minute or so. Harry felt as though his body was generating waves of hatred so powerful that it seemed incredible that Snape could not feel them burning him. He had loathed Snape from their first encounter, but Snape had placed himself forever and irrevocably beyond the possibility of Harry's forgiveness by his attitude toward Sirius. Whatever Dumbledore said, Harry had had time to think over the summer, and had concluded that Snape's snide remarks to Sirius about remaining safely hidden while the rest of the Order of the Phoenix were off fighting Voldemort had probably been a powerful factor in Sirius rushing off to the Ministry the night that he had died. Harry clung to this notion, because it enabled him to blame Snape, which felt satisfying, and also because he knew that if anyone was not sorry that Sirius was dead, it was the man now striding next to him in the darkness.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor for lateness, I think," said Snape. "And, let me see, another twenty for your Muggle attire. You know, I don't believe any House has ever been in negative figures this early in the term: We haven't even started pudding. You might have set a record, Potter."

The fury and hatred bubbling inside Harry seemed to blaze white-hot, but he would rather have been immobilized all the way back to London than tell Snape why he was late.

"I suppose you wanted to make an entrance, did you?" Snape continued. "And with no flying car available you decided that bursting into the Great Hall halfway through the feast ought to create a dramatic effect."

Still Harry remained silent, though he thought his chest might explode. He knew that Snape had come to fetch him for this, for the few minutes when he could needle and torment Harry without anyone else listening.

Surprising Harry, he changed the topic of speech and said, "The fire bird requires the presence of the King today at midnight. Got that Potter?"

Still stunned from the change of topic, Harry stuttered out, "Y-Yes sir."

"What? Cat got your tongue?"

The irritancy he felt at that moment was unparalleled. As much as he tried to control it, the frustration rolled off of him in waves which led to Snape chastise him.

"Anger management problems, Potter? He will do far more anger inducing things that you cannot even fathom to imagine – even if you look past the anger induction, he will mentally torture you, control your mind and force you to kill all friends of yours," he then continued.

"You see your Muggleborn friend? She would be the first one to die. Then young Miss Weasley, Mister Weasley and everyone else who held any sort of connection with you," he noticed Harry starting to get red and as he was preparing to yell, he calmly said,

"If you get angered at my provocations, then you wouldn't stand a chance against the dark lord," at this, Snape menacingly looked into Harry's eyes, which creeped Harry out, and he said, "which will result in all of the prominent fighters of the light, to die and in him conquering Wizarding Britain and then slowly, he will extend his empire with the target being the entire world."

After this Snape backed off and resumed in his stride, escorting Harry to the castle.

They reached the castle steps at last and as the great oaken front doors swung open into the vast flagged entrance hall, a burst of talk and laughter and of tinkling plates and glasses greeted them through the doors standing open into the Great Hall. Harry wondered whether he could slip his Invisibility Cloak back on, thereby gaining his seat at the long Gryffindor table (which, inconveniently, was the farthest from the entrance hall) without being noticed.

As though he had read Harry's mind, however, Snape said, "No cloak. You can walk in so that everyone sees you, which is what you wanted, I'm sure." Harry turned on the spot and marched straight through the open doors: anything to get away from Snape.

The Great Hall, with its four long House tables and its staff table set at the top of the room, was decorated as usual with floating candles that made the plates below glitter and glow. It was all a shimmering blur to Harry, however, who walked so fast that he was passing the Hufflepuff table before people really started to stare, and by the time they were standing up to get a good look at him, he had spotted Ron and Hermione, sped along the benches toward them, and forced his way in between them.

"Where've you — holy hell, what've you done to your face?" said Ron, goggling at him along with everyone else in the vicinity. "Why, what's wrong with it?" said Harry, grabbing a spoon and squinting at his distorted reflection. "You're covered in blood!" said Hermione. "Come here —"

She raised her wand, said " Tergeo!" and siphoned off the dried blood. "Thanks," said Harry, feeling his now clean face. "How's my nose looking?"

"Normal," said Hermione anxiously. "Why shouldn't it? Harry, what happened? We've been terrified!"

"I'll tell you later," said Harry curtly. He was very conscious that Ginny, Neville, Dean, and Seamus were listening in; even Nearly Headless Nick, the Gryffindor ghost, had come floating along the bench to eavesdrop.

"But —"

"Not now, Hermione," said Harry, in a darkly significant voice.

He hoped very much that they would all assume he had been involved in something heroic, preferably involving a couple of Death Eaters and a dementor. Of course, Malfoy would spread the story as far and wide as he could, but there was always a chance it wouldn't reach too many Gryffindor ears. He reached across Ron for a couple of chicken legs and a handful of chips, but before he could take them, they vanished, to be replaced with puddings. "You missed the Sorting, anyway," said Hermione, as Ron dived for a large chocolate gateau.

"Hat say anything interesting?" asked Harry, taking a piece of treacle tart.

"As a matter of fact, yes. It went on in this really odd talk of how two kings would lock horns while a greater being is on its way."

"What did it exactly say?"

Ron fumbled at that. Seeing this, Hermione picked up where Ron dropped off.

"It said these exact words, ' King and King shall lock horns, while one comes out as the Master of all. Down the road the Master shall meet, the Champion of Death which they seek.' And honestly- I also have no clue as to what these could mean."

"Something is a tad too familiar about this, run it again?"

"King and King shall lock horns, while one comes out as the Master of all. Down the road the Master shall meet, the Champion of Death which they seek."

"I need to run this with Dumbledore. Speaking of which, did Dumbledore mention Voldemort at all?"

"That's the thing Harry. Dumbledore isn't here."

"Wha-?" Harry sputtered out confused as he looked towards the Professor's table, he and Hermione heard a faint pop over the chatter and noise of the Great Hall and to their surprise, Dumbledore came through the back door, but battered and bruised for a moment as he changed his look to resemble that he wasn't in any scuffle. Despite that, Dumbledore looked tired and was hunched over, taking deep breaths as if he just ran a marathon.

Harry and Hermione could only furrow their eyebrows at that.

"The heck are you on about? Dumbledore is there!" said Harry as he turned towards Ron.

Flummoxed, Ron turned around to see that Dumbledore was indeed there.

"But I could've swor- "began Ron but Harry cut across from him before he could say anything. Putting aside his confusion for a moment, he picked up his knife and fork and began eating some steak which was on the table.

"Anyways, Snape said Hagrid was late for the feast- "

"You've seen Snape? How come?" asked Ron as he gulped a piece of steak.

"Bumped into him," said Harry evasively.

"Hagrid was only a few minutes late," said Hermione.

Harry was dumbfounded as he looked over to the Professor's table for confirmation and saw that Hagrid was worriedly looking over and talking to Dumbledore but however, at that moment, Hagrid caught his eye and waved at Harry.

Harry broadly grinned back at his greeting while Dumbledore was chuckling at this.

Turning his eyes to look towards Hagrid's other side, he was surprised to see the Divination teacher, Professor Trelawney, sitting on Hagrid's other side; she rarely left her tower room, and he had never seen her at the start-of-term feast before. She looked as odd as ever, glittering with beads and trailing shawls, her eyes magnified to enormous size by her spectacles. Having always considered her a bit of a fraud, Harry had been shocked to discover at the end of the previous term that it had been she who had made the prediction that caused Lord Voldemort to kill Harry's parents and attack Harry himself. The knowledge had made him even less eager to find himself in her company, but thankfully, this year he would be dropping Divination. Her great beaconlike eyes swivelled in his direction; he hastily looked away toward the Slytherin table. Draco Malfoy was miming the shattering of a nose to raucous laughter and applause. Harry dropped his gaze to his treacle tart, his insides burning again. What he would not give to fight Malfoy one-on-one . . .

"So, is anyone asking you about what happened in the Ministry, Harry?"

"So far? Only a couple of people on the train. But on the grander scale? Not many."

"Good because everyone is constantly interrogating us about it. Weren't they Ron?"

"Yeah," said Ron. "All wanting to know if you really are 'the Chosen One' —" "There has been much talk on that very subject even amongst the ghosts," interrupted Nearly Headless Nick, inclining his barely connected head toward Harry so that it wobbled dangerously on its ruff.

"I am considered something of a Potter authority; it is widely known that we are friendly. I have assured the spirit community that I will not pester you for information, however. 'Harry Potter knows that he can confide in me with complete confidence,' I told them. 'I would rather die than betray his trust.'"

"That's not saying much, seeing as you're already dead," Ron observed.

"Once again, you show all the sensitivity of a blunt axe," said Nearly Headless Nick in affronted tones and he rose into the air and glided back toward the far end of the Gryffindor table just as Dumbledore got to his feet at the staff table. The talk and laughter echoing around the Hall died away almost instantly.

"The very best of evenings to you!" he said, smiling broadly, his arms opened wide as though to embrace the whole room. "What happened to his hand?" gasped Hermione. She was not the only one who had noticed. Dumbledore's right hand which was bright red when he came to pick him up from the Dursleys, was in an odd color of black, purple and blue. The dominant color being black.

Whispers swept the room; Dumbledore, interpreting them correctly, merely smiled and shook his purple-and-gold sleeve over his injury. "Nothing to worry about," he said airily. "Now . . . to our new students, welcome, to our old students, welcome back! Another year full of magical education awaits you."

"His hand was a deep red when he came to pick me up from Number Four," Harry whispered to Hermione. "I thought he'd have cured it by now, though . . . or Madam Pomfrey would've done."

"It looks as if it's died," said Hermione, with a nauseated expression. "But there are some injuries you can't cure . . . old curses . . . and there are poisons without antidotes. . .."

". . . and Mr. Filch, our caretaker, has asked me to say that there is a blanket ban on any joke items bought at the shops called Zonkos and Weasley' Wizard Wheezes."

"I know that Hermione. . .. it's just that I didn't classify it as such a bad injury."

"Those wishing to play for their House Quidditch teams should give their names to their Heads of House as usual. We are also looking for new Quidditch commentators, who should do likewise. "We are pleased to welcome two new staff members this year, Professor Barebone and Professor Slughorn, "both of them stood up as their respective names were called, Myhaver's handle bar moustache and goatee being visible while Professor Barebone's lithe frame, long hair, sharp jawline gleamed in the candle light.

"Professor Barebone is an old friend of mine who has agreed to teach Potions this year.

"Potions?"

"Potions?"

The word echoed all over the Hall as people wondered whether they had heard right. The trio, Neville and Ginny all shared a look as they heard that.

"Professor Snape, meanwhile," said Dumbledore, raising his voice so that it carried over all the muttering, "will be taking over the position of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher."

"No!" said Harry, so loudly that many heads turned in his direction. He did not care; he was staring up at the staff table, incensed. How could Snape be given the Defence Against the Dark Arts job after all this time? Hadn't it been widely known for years that Dumbledore did not trust him to do it?

Snape, who was sitting on Dumbledore's right, did not stand up at the mention of his name; he merely raised a hand in lazy acknowledgment of the applause from the Slytherin table, yet Harry was sure he could detect a look of triumph on the features he loathed so much.

"Well, there's one good thing," he said savagely. "Snape'll be gone by the end of the year." "What do you mean?" asked Ron. "That job's jinxed. No one's lasted more than a year. . .. Quirrell actually died doing it. . .. Personally, I'm going to keep my fingers crossed for another death. . .."

"Harry!" said Hermione, shocked and reproachful. "He might just go back to teaching Potions at the end of the year," said Ron reasonably, "the Barebone bloke might not want to stay long-term. Moody didn't."

Dumbledore cleared his throat. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were not the only ones who had been talking; the whole Hall had erupted in a buzz of conversation at the news that Snape had finally achieved his heart's desire. Seemingly oblivious to the sensational nature of the news he had just imparted, Dumbledore said nothing more about staff appointments, but waited a few seconds to ensure that the silence was absolute before continuing.

"Since I would be away for a better part of the year, Professor McGonagall is going to take over my Headmaster duties while I introduce you to your acting Transfiguration Professor but when Professor McGonagall would resume teaching, your Battle Transfiguration Professor, please welcome, Professor Myhaver Slughorn!"

Everyone applauded for Myhaver as he grinned at the students in return. Many found him to be a kind fellow while others were intrigued by the mention of Battle Transfiguration.

As the applauses died down, Dumbledore began, "Now, as everybody in this Hall knows, Lord Voldemort and his followers are once more at large and gaining in strength." The silence seemed to tauten and strain as Dumbledore spoke. Harry glanced at Malfoy. Malfoy was not looking at Dumbledore, but making his fork hover in mid-air with his wand, as though he found the headmaster's words unworthy of his attention

"I cannot emphasize strongly enough how dangerous the present situation is, and how much care each of us at Hogwarts must take to ensure that we remain safe. The castle's magical fortifications have been strengthened over the summer, we are protected in new and more powerful ways, but we must still guard scrupulously against carelessness on the part of any student or member of staff. I urge you, therefore, to abide by any security restrictions that your teachers might impose upon you, however irksome you might find them — in particular, the rule that you are not to be out of bed after hours. I implore you, should you notice anything strange or suspicious within or outside the castle, to report it to a member of staff immediately. I trust you to conduct yourselves, always, with the utmost regard for your own and others' safety." Dumbledore's blue eyes swept over the students before he smiled once more.

"But now, your beds await, as warm and comfortable as you could possibly wish, and I know that your top priority is to be well rested for your lessons tomorrow. Let us therefore say good night. Pip pip!

With the usual deafening scraping noise, the benches were moved back and the hundreds of students began to file out of the Great Hall toward their dormitories. Harry, who was in no hurry at all to leave with the gawping crowd, nor to get near enough to Malfoy to allow him to retell the story of the nose-stamping, lagged behind, pretending to retie the lace on his trainer, allowing most of the Gryffindors to draw ahead of him. Hermione had darted ahead to fulfill her prefect's duty of shepherding the first years, but Ron remained with Harry.

"What really happened to your nose?" he asked, once they were at the very back of the throng pressing out of the Hall, and out of earshot of anyone else. Harry told him. It was a mark of the strength of their friendship that Ron did not laugh. "I saw Malfoy miming something to do with a nose," he said darkly. "Yeah, well, never mind that," said Harry bitterly. "Listen to what he was saying before he found out I was there. . .."

While Harry was telling Ron what happened within the famous Hogwarts Express, at the same time, thousands of miles away, a plan of elaborate chaos begins.

From his throne-like chair, Voldemort got up, walked on over to his room of rituals and experimentations, Voldemort began a ritual which would insure that the time of each night would prolong its time, to such an extent, that one day, the sun will not rise and the bats from hell would cause chaos over the entire world, included Magical Britain.

Voldemort raised his wand, and caused a slab of marble on the floor in front of him, to rise a few inches above the ground and hover at that spot.

He then went around the room gathering the required ingredients, placed them on a desk, and slowly drew a circle around the raised marble slab. As he deems it enough, he sat down on the floor, surrounded himself with a circle of fine moonstone, conjured a small piece of wood and keeps it on the centre of the slab. He then lit the wood on fire and began the ritual.

'Shards of moonstone, allow me to channel you power!' he cast that as he placed down shards of a moonstone, from each corner to corner of the rectangular slab of marble which was floating in front of him.

" Essence of darkness, shroud your might over the outer realm!' with that, he threw down a black powder which emitted dark fumes, onto the ever-heating slab of marble, which caused the shards to sizzle and the heat in the room to grow exponentially.

Beads of sweat beginning to form on his forehead, Voldemort continued.

'Fur of the Hellbat, place your foot and present yourself in the Outer-Earth!' he then threw a few strands of fur into the fire and the rest of it onto the sizzling shards of the moonstone.

' Venom of the Hellbat, step through and show us your might!' he then unscrewed a vial of venom and dribbled half of it onto the sizzling shards and dumped the rest of it onto the flame he lit, which grew a lot and it's flames were now beginning to swallow the entirety of the slab, along the contents in it. Now for the final step, Voldemort grabbed his wand and thrust it into the air, calling the essence of darkness towards himself with his wand-free hand which led the flame's intensity to increase, and he chanted out the final spell.

' IAM VOCARE POTENTIAM IN HELLBAT! TO PER AC SUDARE TUAS IN UNIVERSUM REGNI NOSTRI!' (1)

As he said that, the flames burst outward, leading the sizzling shards of moonstone to vaporise and the wisps of them, to go towards the moon and a bit of the essence of darkness entered his body and magically enhanced him.

As Voldemort's eyes began to settle to the darkness of the room once again, he could feel the effects of the ritual taking place and the night elongating itself slowly. He knows that the next night would be longer and when it is three days before the full moon, the blackout would happen.

With moonlight falling on him and illuminating his snake-like face as he stared at the remains of the ritual, he chuckled and said, "And so it begins…"

- ARC 6 END-

AN:

(1): NOW I SUMMON THE MIGHT OF THE HELLBAT! TO STEP THROUGH AND SHROUD YOUR MIGHT OVER THE ENTIRETY OF OUR REALM!

Sorry for the late upload guys, my life is taking a busy turn and studies are just consuming my time. I'll try to upload whenever I can.

Update: 26/1/2021

Heya guys, I thought that I should probably update you lot.

You see, exams are after my ass so I couldn't update cuz of that and now another factor has been added into the mix.

Any guesses?

No?

Lemme tell ya, it's COVID.

Yup.

Covid.

I just gotta get better from this stupidass virus and get finished with my exams man, my life literally has been turned upside down (thanks Covid.) After I am done, expect more chapters to come (like 2) before i disappear again for my finals in March. Ok?

Till next time,

Toodles.

Update: 2/2/2022 A WHOLE LOTTA 2'S DAMNIT

Aye there people. I have returned. As of now, I dont really have any concrete chapter because I am writing Arc 7 Part 1 and its only like 200 words written. I have a longway to go with it. Since I am covid free (Yup, I had caught Covid and I have shifted homes and am in a new home rn) and exam free, expect a new chapter this week and sometime next week and then be ready for me to disappear again cuz I got my finals at the start of March. Ok?

Till next time,

Toodles.

Edit: I just wanted to announce that I had returned lol.

Also, please dont unfollow this story cuz of this update. Please. Please.

Update:

7/2/2022
Guys, the workload from school is just a bit too much. I wont be able to turn out two chapters. Just a singular one in February cuz of fucking EXAM PREPARATION FOR MY FINALS IN MARCH! FOR FUCKS SAKE, I AM TIRED OF THESE MANY FUCKING EXAMS!
I'll just upload the next chapter when I can.
I can guarantee its going to be in February though.
So, till next time,
Toodles.