AN: I Know, I know… I'm horrible at updating… pelt me with oranges if you must. Just a quick note: Half-Blood Prince will not influence my story so no spoilers shall be found. Consider this, now, AU.

Harry Potter and the Snake's Veil

Chapter 03 The Next Heir and Promises

Harry woke up. A pain throbbed in both his arm and his ribs. His glasses had been removed. He sat up and blinked a few times to gain his equilibrium back. His head hurt like a few bludgers had slipped by Fred and George's beater bats. He cradled his arm close to his chest. It hadn't been tended to yet. Harry dared not to move it. A cold hard cement floor was beneath him.

"Where am I?" he mumbled out loud. He knew wherever he was, it was dark and blurry, but, he allowed himself a small smirk, that could be easily fixed with some concave lenses. A sudden feeling of coldness interrupted his concussion induced humor. It swept past his skin, into his core. It clung onto his lungs seeming to steal the breath out of his body. Dementors. Harry tried thinking of a happy memory but he couldn't get pass the feeling of mush his brain seemed to have acquired. Harry faltered. Screams filled his head. Harry closed his eyes and he saw his godfather fall through the veil. "No!"

The iciness slowly evaporated into a clamminess that led up to zing from his lighting bolt scar.

"What's wrong Potter? Aren't you happy to see me or are you just feeling a little teenage angst?" Voldemort's cruel voice said. "Dumbledore has finally made a wrong choice. And it cost you, your godfather, didn't it Potter?"

"It was my fault," came the small reply.

"So quick to carry the blame but does it belong to you in the first place. Would you have hurtled off to the Ministry if you knew I could send you the wrong messages? If all I had been searching for was the prophecy?"

Harry didn't answer but now was looking at the dark wizard with extreme hate.

"Struck a point, didn't I?" he smiled maliciously. "Now Potter, why don't you just tell me the prophecy and I'll let you walk out of my little abode, unscathed."

"It broke. Lucius Malfoy made me drop it. You already know that."

Red eyes stared deeply into Harry's green ones. Harry averted his gaze. "I'll get it out of you yet. For now Potter, I do hope you enjoy your stay at my mansion. I've heard these cells have very nice accommodations including your very own personal guards. Sleep well." Voldemort strode out of the room as two dementors slunk in.

Harry was once again haunted with horrors of the past. It wasn't long before Harry was once again unconscious.

Meanwhile, Voldemort worked his way out of the gloomy catacombs that were underneath his manor. After one flight of stone stairs, Voldemort was on the ground floor. Wormtail was waiting for him in the hallway. The silver arm glistered in the candlelight. A nervous twitch was evident underneath one eye.

"My… my Lord."

"Listen Wormtail for I have other business to attend to and I don't have the patience to repeat these instructions. Potter is to remain a secret. I don't want Dumbledore hearing that I have his precious Potter yet. Send out fake leads. Potter will stay in solitary confinement for three weeks. Only enter his cell to deliver his meals. Dementors will be stationed all night into the morning. Once October starts, the real fun will begin."

"Yes, milord."

"Your obedience will pay off soon my faithful servant."

"Thank you my Master."

"Now, assemble my most trusted officials that are here. It's time to go to Azkaban."

"Right away, sir"

Azkaban Flattened

Last night, Azkaban Prison was leveled leaving this notorious prison in ruins. A group of Death Eaters (You-Know-Who's followers) led by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, himself, attacked the prison killing the six wizards that were on duty. The few Death Eaters that were imprisoned have escaped. This was the third breakout at Azkaban in the past four years. In an interview this morning, Minister Fudge said, "We are currently doing all we can at this moment. Currently we have no… umm… no known whereabouts to You-Know-Who's location." Many believe this is one of the final nails in Fudge's coffin of his time as minister. Recently, Azkaban held the ban of Death Eaters that were discovered in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries, last June, attempting to steal one of its many hidden treasures which included Lucius Malfoy.

Harry felt like he was being pulled out of a stupor. There was no icy feeling in the air. No screaming. No fluttering veils.

Harry was not in his cell for the room was brightly lit and much larger. Even without his glasses on, Harry could see the fuzzy outlines of a chair in one corner, a few tables like the one he was tied to, and something hanging on the wall.

Then the door creaked open and Voldemort entered the room. "Well Potter, have you enjoyed your stay so far?" Harry just glared back. "Didn't those Muggles teach you your manners? I suppose not, the filth." Voldemort paused and began to untie the straps holding Harry down with flicks of his wand. "I'm sorry what I had to do to you my son but it was necessary to strip you down of any powers Dumbledore gave you. So now, I can make you my heir, for that is who you are." He handed Harry his glasses from the depths of his robes.

Harry sat up on the table and stared into the corner of the room absorbing what Voldemort had said. He coughed trying to clear a voice that had been unused for three weeks. He stole a glance at Voldemort who was peering at him intently, waiting for a response. He finally found his voice, "I'm not your son or heir. James Potter is my father."

"That may be but you are so very like me: Parselmouths and half-bloods. You even look like me when I was younger. The coincidence is overwhelming." He twirled his wand in his right hand as though bored with Harry's lack of reaction.

"I've heard this all before from your past self. Dumbledore said…" Harry was cut off.

"… that it was because I transferred some of my powers to you. Right?" A cruel smile played on his lips. The wand stopped spinning. "Who's to say my son, that you didn't have those powers already?"

"You're lying." Harry's palms began sweating and he felt some of it form in the small of his back. Maybe Dumbledore kept something else from him…

"What can I do to gain your trust, son? Name something and I'll see to it that it happens."

"I'm not your…"

"I know, but it'll have to wait a week because you're too weak to travel. Didn't your godfather die last time we met? Fell though a veil, right?"

Harry nodded. His head was throbbing form everything Voldemort had told him. All he wanted to do was be with Sirius at some secluded house in the countryside.

"It just so happens Harry that I know how it works."

That brought Harry out of his fantasy. "You can't. No one knows…"

Voldemort once again interrupted Harry, "Well, not every one is the descendent of Salazar Sytherin, now are they? He created it before he founded Hogwarts. Salazar used it to kill his enemies in the slowest way possible or to call back a spirit long gone. It's a portal between the living and the dead."

Harry's breath got caught in his throat, 'Sirius!'

Reading Harry mind, Voldemort addressed Harry's issue, "I said, my son, that it was a slow way to die. One doesn't notice they're slowing being pulled apart by the hands of death for about a year. Black should still be intact."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He looked at Voldemort who was surveying him with a small smile playing on his lips. Then it clicked. Harry was not going to be pulled into another trap. He was not going to get someone else killed on his behalf. With a growl, he accused, "You're lying, about everything. It's not true."

"We'll see about that, Harry. I'll remember this conversation and prove you are wrong. Well, at least it wouldn't be the first time that happened. Wormtail come to me!"

Wormtail slipped in. "Yes, Master?" He cast a sideway glance at Harry.

"Take Harry here to his new room. Get the House Elves to make him some decent meals." Voldemort then shot Wormtail a look. Harry furrowed his brows trying to decipher what that meant. He waited for Voldemort to say something more.

Wormtail obviously understood it much easier than Harry and sputtered. "Right away sir. Mobilcorpus!"

"Next week my son, I'll have you godfather back. I promise you."

Typed up 2005

Anaticulapraecantrix