AN: I have committed to myself and to you, my faithful readers: I will finish this story in June. Since I'm graduating high school and will be in Europe for 3 weeks, I really don't want to leave this story hanging when I have put so much time into it. So enjoy the increase of story updating.

Harry Potter and the Snake's Veil

Chapter 08 Sleepy Hollow Rides Again

Excited chatter filled the hall. Food and goodies lined the table. Bats screeched as they swooped down, inciting squeals from some of the first years. The school ghost's reenacted Sleepy Hollow with Nearly Headless Nick playing the horseman. Snape's chair was vacant again; the students didn't even bothering gossiping about where their most hated professor was. Nothing could bring down the mood; it was Halloween after all.

Then Hell froze over.

The doors to the Great Hall blew open, revealing no more than twenty-five Death Eaters, with Lord Voldemort leading the group. Once the students realized that it wasn't a part of the festivities, the younger ones began screaming while the older students started trying to herd them together to evacuate. They had ran through a drill already once this year.

The teachers immediately rose and all of them began erecting barriers around the students. That was their first priority.

Voldemort strode through the chaos toward Dumbledore. His red eyes flicked around the hall before resting on the old headmaster. A Death Eater followed him.

Upon reaching the teacher's table, he said, "Well Dumbledore, it seems Hogwarts is no longer safe. I think I'll have to come back later to fully take it over. I just wanted to instill the power that I possess now that the Ministry in ruins."

"Hogwarts will never be yours Tom. I didn't allow you to come back before and nothing has changed."

With the blink an eye, the duel between them began. Voldemort transfigured two benches into large serpents which closed in on the aging headmaster. With a crack, they were gone and a gold colored spell shot at Voldemort. A well placed shield deflected it. Voldemort then shot a spell at a group of Hufflepuffs. Dumbledore blocked it.

"Consopio Ponec Expergo!" yelled the voice of the lurking Death Eater. The spell flew from his wand and sped toward the distracted Dumbledore, hitting him square on the chest; he stumbled backward for a few steps before falling to the ground, unconscious.

Voldemort turned to his right hand. "Good job, my heir. Mormorsdre."

By now the Great Hall was smoldering. Tables lay in pieces with students hiding underneath, the remaining standing teachers and a few older students tried to take on the Death Eaters.

Voldemort began walking toward the exit, blowing away anyone in his way. "Come my Death Eaters." He paused surveying the room. As his Death Eaters swept away from their fights, the ones they were engaged in battle with looked on, breathless, not bothering to continue a losing battle. With a cruel smile playing at his lips, he taunted, "I'll come back to visit soon."

They all turned and left, leaving no trace, except for the one lone Dark Mark.

A few seconds passed and all that could be heard from the hall was some sobbing and hushed murmurs. McGonagall and the teachers began assessing the damage and how many students were injured.

Then, like a beat of drum, someone yelled, "Hurry, someone fetch Madam Pomfrey. The Headmaster's been injured!"

The group of Death Eaters that besieged Hogwarts filled the dining room of Voldemort's manor. Their laughs were absorbed in the thick stone walls. The popping of bottle corks and clinking of glasses filled the air.

One Death Eater stumbled away from the group, his steps uneven. His vision faltered and he tripped over the Persian rug but caught himself. He reached the corner of the room, the farthest point away from the other Death Eaters, and ripped off his mask, revealing a very pale face and frightened green eyes. His legs gave way and he fell to the cold stone floor. He tried to keep his stomach contents where they belonged.

In the distance, Voldemort was giving some rousing speech. Harry only caught a few phrases like "mission accomplished" and "will win." Then the excited chatter vanished.

Footsteps approached Harry, who was fighting a wave of emotions. 'What have I done?'

"Get up my son; there is still much to do." Voldemort glanced over the teen.

Obediently, leaning against the wall for support, Harry pulled himself up. He turned to face Voldemort, the white mask still clutched in his hand. His scar pricked.

"You did well my heir. I'm very proud of you. So proud, we can begin your next step."

"No." Pools of water formed I his eyes, making them greener, if even possible.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes. "Do you not remember last time you defied me? I will not be as generous again." He paused and leaned closer, "You have already began to walk down this path; if you try to turn back, I will kill you."

The hot breath lingered on Harry. Then, his demeanor changed. A steely glint appeared in his eyes. "Then kill me, I will not follow you anymore."

Voldemort chuckled. "Just the answer I was expecting of you." He turned away from Harry to intercept Wormtail.

"Kill me then, you coward! Kill me!"

Ignoring the pleas, Voldemort addressed Wormtail, "Take Potter to his room. Begin him on Salazar's Potion. Once it begins to work, take him down to the main chamber." He glanced at Harry once more. "Be good or I'll have to rebreak your arm."

"I won't follow you! I will never follow you…"

"We'll see what you think after the potion, Harry."

The next month flew by in a blur of pain and anguish. Harry was barely conscious enough to take in his surroundings, yet alone the time; all he knew was pain. His body caved in at the effects of Salazar's Potion. Harry did all he could mentally to fight the infiltrating drug. It made him want to join Voldemort. It sickened him.

A small groan was pushed thought two pale lips. A slight tremor shook the body. Then two eyes opened, blinking to get focused. His body protested the minutest of movements. Harry tried to sit up but fell back on the satin pillow.

'Satin pillow?' his groggy mind questioned. 'Where… what?' He strained to remember his last memory. The Halloween Feast! 'I attacked Dumbledore.'

"He deserved what he got, the liar," he mumbled out loud. "He's a traitor and a fool."

'No, he's a good man. A good man.'

Harry suppressed the rest of his thoughts as he once again struggled to sit up. He succeeded and recognized "his room." A tiny smile snuck on his face when he saw Sirius sleeping at the foot of the bed. At least he had Sirius.

The thick oak door opened and Harry tensed. He turned his throbbing head and a very nervous Wormtail slunk in with a tray of food.

"Young Master Potter, our lord wished me to drop off this food. He… he is currently busy wi…with other business."

Hatred that Harry had never felt before filled him. His eyes burned, "You traitorous filth! You never deserved to spend that time with my parents. You stole my time with them. The Dark Lord hates you; you're only his pathetic lap dog. My father thought you were a weakling and so does the Dark Lord. You're lower than scum, you rat!"

In a surprising move, Wormtail lashed out with his silver hand and grabbed Harry's throat. Sirius began barking. "I'd watch what you say Potter, you… you may be our lord's favorite but you still need to be… be broken and our master owes me…"

He released Harry, who hit the back of his head on the high head board. Harry gasped and managed to shoot an evil glare to once again twitching servant. Wormtail scuttled off.

Harry blinked and quickly calmed, breathing deeply. 'What came over me?' He picked up the plate of sandwiches and noticed his glasses were also on the table. He slipped them on and glanced around the room before turning back to the plate of food.

It felt like he hadn't eaten for a while but his stomach was still uneasy. So, he decided to eat one half of the sandwich and gave the other half in Sirius.

A shiver rocked his body. 'It couldn't be too cold in here.' He felt his forehead, searching for a fever, only to notice how pale his arm was. It was almost white. 'How long have I been here?' He looked around for a mirror. Finding none in his spacious room, Harry returned his attention on his arm. He traced his veins up his arm. His fingers seemed longer, spider-lie.

Harry turned to the door. He had to get out of this place. He was turning into… 'Don't think that Harry. Just move!'

He slid out of bed and took two steps before a wave of sleepiness hit him. The next second, he was on the plush rug, out cold.

When Harry awoke, it took a lot of energy to even get his eyes open. He felt sloth-like. When he did, he took in his surrounding.

Harry was in a new room. It was cold and damp. Moss clung to the stone walls like dew to a spider-web. Sconces were spaced out along the wall; the unnatural gray flames sent shadows dancing along the walls.

The lone cast iron door creaked open and Voldemort slipped in with Wormtail and Lucius, carrying a book, closely following.

"I hope you are level headed my heir. Unfortunately, Wormtail here overestimated the dosage of sleeping draught…"

"Master, I told you Snape…"

A cold stare from the snake shut the rat up instantly. "Anyways, Dumbledore obviously filled up your head with such nonsense as Defense," Lucius handed him the cloth-bound novel, "that we must fix. I have here one of the few remaining copies of Thoth's manuscripts about dark magic and how to use it to gain power." He flipped through the frail parchment until he found the correct page. "He even wrote down spells that would grant immortality, spells that'll entice even Dumbledore to work for me. Now my heir, you'll be able to enjoy this liberation from the likes of Hogwarts."

And so he began to read:

"As the words leave my mouth, may the souls of the underworld hear me, and come forth. I summon thee to pass on thy knowledge of the afterlife and share the gift of living forevermore. Come forth!"

Harry lay prone on the table. He jerked his head around to assess what was going on. Voldemort stood at his feet, with Lucius and Wormtail lurking behind, as silent observers. 'This has to be some joke,' Harry quipped.

Then, the flames died down to mere wisps of light. From the dirt floor, a skeletal hand broke free and began pulling itself to the surface. More ghostly apparitions were rising from the ground in droves. 'Oh bugger.' They rose and began forming a circle around Harry. Most of them were eyeless and the blank gaps were turned in Harry's direction. Harry began pulling against his restraints but they were too tight. The smell was gag worthy as sulfur infiltrated his senses. He shouldn't have eaten that sandwich.

Voldemort, meanwhile, had started to read again. "I called you from your graves, from the very pits of Hell. In living you were powerful, in death you shall pass it on to an eager pupil."

"I'm not bloody eager to learn anything from these corpses!"

"Inhabit him; consume him with your vast knowledge. Make him your own."

The ghostly apparitions began circling the struggling Harry and chanting in an ancient dark language. If Harry knew languages, he would have noticed they were speaking Demotic.

"As you mold him, infuse him with the Dark Arts so he may become powerful and not be strayed away by emotions. Allow him to grow into a master of darkness! Take him back to your world to be trained."

The figures around Harry moved with such speed, they looked to be a blur. The chanting came quick and more frantic. Harry pulled against the chains; his wrists were now heavily bruised. The stench was becoming overpowering.

"And lastly, as you complete the ritual, make it so he will not suffer the same fate as thee. Allow him to live, take half his soul, and preserve it in your graves. Let it be ready for when he may need it. Go now, into the body of Harry James Potter, I command thee!"

The blurred mass stopped chanting and formed one deity. Time slowed down. A bead of sweat rolled down Harry's forehead like an iceberg moving across the sea. Spittle floated in front of Voldemort's mouth. The deity rose up above Harry and plunged down inside him. Time continued on at its pace.

The guttural scream that filled the quiet void made even Lucius wince.

"So it is done, my heir is made."

- Anaticulapraecantrix, 2006