The week leading up to Halloween was surprisingly uneventful for a week in the life of Harry Potter. No one tried to kidnap him; nothing blew up in potions, which had been rather quiet since he had started training Draco. In fact the blond boy was too busy preening to pay attention to his "inferiors." All of the Slytherins had been commenting on how good he looked lately. Harry put up with all of it because it meant that Draco complained less when he made him run.

Other than the physical benefits of moving regularly Draco was experiencing a steady rise in magical strength and ability. Harry was shocked to find out that Draco was actually working, as in practicing, at it and could now do simple first year spells without a wand. Draco was surprising him, and that was unnerving. On the other hand some kind of pseudo-bond had formed between the two of them. Harry likened it to the student teacher bonds he had had as Salazar; Draco called it the flue.

Harry's relationship with Ron improved over the week. Their animagus training had gotten through the learning to meditate stage, and they were now trying to manifest physical proof of their animal forms. As expected, this is where they hit a brick wall. In order to change into an animal one had to be able to picture in their mind the complete anatomy of the animal in detail, including the heart and nerves and other internal organs. Ron didn't know enough about the anatomy of a lion to change. Harry didn't even know what his animal was, or even if it was an animal for that matter.

The picture in his mind was still mostly a human form with tufty ears, long claws, hairy forearms and two tails. The last was very troubling; both went all the way to the floor and seemed to have a mind or two of their own. When he reproduced the image for Ron, the all the red head had to say was "Fluffy", and indeed the tails were bushy. That was as far as Harry was willing to go, and there was no way in hell they looked "cute."

Stranger still was Ron started to come to Draco's training sessions, and even wanted to participate.

"I refuse to work with the weasel!" Draco shouted at the top of his lungs for the fifth time. "It's not right, why should a mudblood loving low life be able to train with his betters?"

Harry closed his eyes and grimaced. "He stays or the deal is off."

"What? You can't do that to me."

"The hell I can't!" Harry took a deep breath. "Look, it is only practical that you have someone else to fight. Not every one is going to fight like me; you need to get more experience, and Ron has to learn. I want him to be able to protect himself. So damn it, get to work warming up while I teach Ron the basics. End of discussion."

Twenty minutes later Draco found the up side to sparing with Ron. He couldn't get near Harry if he fought at his true level, but Ron he could put on the floor in a matter of seconds, which he did repeatedly. Harry spent the next half hour against the wall observing his students with his sleeve shoved half way down his throat to keep from laughing. Then he took pity on his poor friend and made Draco run laps while he corrected Ron's stance. It went over real well: Ron laughed, Draco scowled, and Harry wanted to scream.

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Harry strode through the halls at a fast clip. Tonight was supposed to be his first meeting with Snape. He wondered briefly how he was going to handle Occulmancy lessons. He couldn't let Snape see his new, old memories; he didn't want to explain himself to the morose man. The very thought of dealing with Snape made his stomach turn. It was the perfect end to a perfect week or Ron and Draco taunting each other until Harry got pissed and let them beat the shit out of each other and, or beating the shit out of both of them at once himself.

Then again maybe he should tell Snape everything. If he did it was sure to get back around to Voldemort; Harry had been having problems formulating a plan to confront Voldemort while spending the better part of his time either in class or doing homework, not to mention Hermione had been breathing down his neck for the past few days. It took some spectacular manipulation to get rid of the girl.

Harry also knew that she had been feeding information to Dumbledore. It would make his job easier if everyone knew who he was. The only problem was that he didn't want to go into hiding again. Harry hated prejudice, for s many deep and personal reasons.

Harry stopped in hall and shook his head. He was getting way off track. How to get at Voldemort that is what he should be thinking about, Harry did not want to confront the slime ball as himself. The Boy Who Lived wasn't known for his dark side, and any meeting Harry had with Voldemort would be a meeting of two Dark Lords and the struggle for dominance.

Harry walked into Slytherin territory too caught up in his circular thought patterns to notice the world around him. So engrossed was he that it was amazing that he was still on the path to Snape's office and not wandering aimlessly around the dungeons. Thus he missed the thin sheen he would have otherwise seen in the flickering torch light.

The wire that had been laid across the hall snapped into action as Harry stepped over it. The magical weapon, commonly used in assinations, wound itself around Harry's neck and began to constrict, cutting into the skin and cutting off air. Harry barely managed to get his fingers between the wire and his neck to give himself some breathing room, but that wouldn't last long. The wire was meant to continue squeezing until the victim's head separated from his body, and it didn't tire.

Harry pulled on the wire letting it cut his fingers all the way to the bone. He gritted his teeth and reached for his wand with his other hand. He would only have one chance.

Suddenly, Harry found himself on the floor. He looked down at his feet where the end of the wire was wound and cursed. The damn thing was longer than he originally thought. Harry gasped for air as spots began to spark at the corner of his eyes. He wouldn't last much longer at this rate.

"Incidio," Harry let go of the wire in shock. It immediately turned to ash and rained harmlessly down onto the floor. Snape's deep voice was actually a welcome sound. Harry lay gasping on the hard stone floor feeling his neck to access the damage. "Well, at least you have a good reason to be late," Snape said in a superior tone. "Tell me Potter how did you ever manage to survive meeting the Dark Lord if you can't handle a child's prank?"

Harry growled despite the pain in the throat. "Don't ever call that refuse the Dark Lord. He won't live long enough to fulfill that title if I have anything to say about it."

Snape stared down at the teen with an unreadable look on his face. "I see," he said. "Come, I have a potion that will heal your wounds." He turned on his heel and strode down the hall back to his office not waiting for Harry to get to his feet.

Harry rose slowly, blood dribbling onto the floor. The man was impossible. If it weren't for the fact that Snape was what Slytherin House needed at this point he would be in the hospital wing for the next three months. Harry limped his way to Snape's office muttering under his breath the whole time. He stopped in the door when he saw Snape sitting at his desk grading papers as if nothing had happened. Harry was not amused.

"What did you mean by a child's prank?" He asked without preamble.

Snape looked up with a frown on his face. "Did you Aunt and Uncle not teach you any respect?" He sighed. "Blaise is angry with you for some reason or another."

"What? Why would… Who is Blaise?" Harry could remember hearing the name before, but for the life of him could not picture the boy. "I take it that this is his normal form of retaliation." He walked over to Snape's Desk and sat in one of the uncomfortable, strait backed chairs that sat before it. "Why would he be angry at me."

Snape pursed his lips. "It's about Draco." Harry waited for the man to elaborate, but Snape was obviously finished with the explanation.

Then it hit him. "No, that can't be it." Snape only snorted in reply. "Blaise has a crush on Draco. Ha ha… ow." Harry reached up and rubbed his throat, which in retrospect was not a good idea.

"Here drink this before you kill yourself." Snape handed him a small vile that was sitting next to his ink well. Harry took the vile and brought it to his lips, then stopped. "It's not going to kill you."

"I know that; I was just wondering if it was the ink well." Snape glared. Harry gave him a small smile and downed the contents of the vile. He coughed, why do all the healing draughts have to taste like sludge. But he could feel the skin on his throat and hand healing. "Kinda wish it was."

"I'll remember that." Snape took down took down a pensive and started to put his memories into it. "I thought it was obvious the first time, but we both know that for you it is not so I'll say it now. Do not under any circumstances look at my memories. Can you get that through your simple little brain?"

Harry sighed, "Yes, I understand."

"Good then." Snape placed the last silver thread into the pensive. "Let's get started. I doubt you have made any improvements…"

Harry let Snape's voice wash over him, nodding in all the appropriate places by dumb luck. The jest of the lecture, he knew was that he was a lazy useless , pampered little snot that was given too much leeway for his own good, and someone really should take him in hand. There was probably something about occulmancy in there some where as well.

"Potter," Snape calling his name snapped him out of his trance. "Shall we begin?"

Harry nodded and raised his wand. If Snape stayed true to form he would not wait for him to be ready. "Ligimens." Harry knew that he could not block Snape without seeming suspicious, so he did the only thing he could think of. He called up the memory of talking to a snake for the first time at the zoo and forced it at Snape's seeking magic, expanding the memory until it was all the professor saw. After what seemed to be a decent time he snapped his mind closed. Snape fell backwards into his desk.

"Interesting," Snape commented. "Again," He raised his wand and sent another thread of magic at Harry. This time Harry used the memory of him being chased around the quidditch pitch by dementors, the bone chilling cold came to mind quite easily. Snape suddenly pulled out of his attack and Harry reeled forward as the pressure he had been pushing against disappeared. Snape narrowed his eyes. "Very interesting. Why don't you try an actual block? You seem quite capable of it."

Harry stood stock still. He should have known Snape would not be stupid enough to fall for his trick. The snarky bastared probably knew all kinds of ways to keep people out of his mind; he had been doing just that for years now.

Without warning Snape raised his wand once more. This time Harry blanked his mind completely and let the magic go through his mind. Snape stopped the spell but did not lower his wand. "Who are you?"

Harry bit his lip. "I told you once before, you wouldn't believe me if I told you."

"Who are you!" Snape screamed throwing a cutting spell at the boy. Harry let it hit his arm, slicing open his robe but not touching the skin.

"I am the one who is going to kill Voldemort."

"Don't play games with me. What have you done with Potter?"

"Nothing, he stands before you."

"I don't believe you."

"Of course you don't; what I am saying is preposterous." Harry crossed his arms over his chest. "That is why I recommend that you get your emergency vile of vetriserum."

Snape paused for a moment taken aback by Harry's words. "You are insane."

"But this is something you have wanted to do for years. Admit it; you want to know all my little secrets."

"Only the insane or insanely desperate willingly take vetriserum."

"The former, please, I am by no means desperate." Harry sat back down in front of the desk. "Go and get it. I'll wait here." Snape licked his lips. It was obvious to Harry that he was considering his options. Finally the older man grunted and left the room. Harry felt him cast a warding on the office door, Snape didn't trust him.

Harry sat and waited. The minutes dragged on like hours and he could feel the cool sweat on his palms. He was about to show Snape his hand. He could only hope that the man would keep his secret, an ally would be very useful. But if Snape told Voldemort or Dumbledore… well then Harry would kill him. Slytherin never took well to the betrayals he didn't expect. When he put his trust in someone he expected that trust to be returned. It was a very select group he trusted, and mutual gain was integral to that trust. Death was the only acceptable punishment. Harry waited to see what his next move would be.

It had been ten minutes when Harry heard Snape's footsteps outside the door. He turned around, to make a scathing comment about keeping him waiting. A bolt of magic came shooting at his head. Only his quick reflexes kept him from getting hit. Harry hit the floor and rolled to the side. Getting his feet under him he cast a paralyzing spell at the potions master. The spell bounced off a magic shield and hit the desk. Harry cast a shielding charm on himself just in time to stop Snape's next attack.

The two of them stood across the room from each other knowing that there would be very few spells that could get through the shields as long as they could sustain them. Harry had no idea what Snape was thinking, but he was trying to find a way to pin the man's death on Voldemort. "Well, it seems to be my day for surprise attacks." He commented nonchalantly.

Snape cast a warding charm on the door, preventing exit. He walked toward Harry who stepped back out of arms reach. He bared his stained teeth at the boy. "We are at an impasse. So I propose going on with the original plan: you drinking the vetriserum."

Harry raised his eyebrows, "Now you want to talk?"

"You have given me a unique opportunity."

"I should kill you."

Snape merely looked at him. "Definitely not Potter."

"Did you even get the vetriserum?"

"Of course." Snape took a small vile out of his robes. "Three drops, Not Potter, I don't feel like disposing of your body tonight."

Harry glared at the potions master. "I know the dose," he snapped. He didn't wait for Snape to get him a glass of water but licked over the opening of the vile catching a couple of drops, then handed the vile back to Snape who took it with a disgusted look on his face. Harry smiled spitefully at the man.

Then the drug hit him. His head suddenly felt ten times lighter, and all the tension drained out of his body. Harry liked this feeling. Nothing mattered and he felt light as a feather. "Is it working yet?" Snape's voice sounded as if it was coming from underwater.

"It seems to be working just fine."

"A simple yes would suffice." Snape sat down behind his desk. Harry tried to sit back down in the chair but missed the first time and ended up sitting on the floor. He giggled. Snape rolled his eyes. "Do you need help?"

"Naw, I'll get it eventually." Harry got back up and managed to sit on the chair. He put his hands in his lap and looked at Snape expectantly.

"You don't seem afraid." Snape commented. "Aren't you afraid of what I will ask you?"

"Not really. What ever I tell you won't be as embarrassing as what they print in the Prophet, and it will be the truth at least."

"Yes, of course. Now let' start simple. Who are you?"

"Right now I am Harry Potter, Golden Boy, The Boy Who lived."

Snape frowned. "And who were you before?"

"As near as I can figure, about 1056 years ago I was the Dark Lord, Salazar Slytherin."

Snape's eyebrows shoot up. "You have got to be kidding me. Did you really drink the vetriserum?"

"Of course I did."

"Fine then, tell me what you saw inside my pensive last year."

"Well, it was after the owls and my father and his friends were teasing you. Dad had you hanging upside down, showing your dirty underwear off for the whole school to see." Harry stopped and looked across the desk at a red faced Snape. "Does that prove that I am Harry Potter, and that I have taken vetriserum, or would you like to hear about my early life, though you might want to specify which one or we could be here a while."

"Tell me your most embarrassing moment."

"There are a lot of those." Harry thought about it for a moment. "The worst of it all would be my first date. She ran out of the restaurant crying. She really wasn't over Cedric yet, but she did ask me out for Valentines Day. I hate that holiday." Snape opened his mouth to comment, "But my other most embarrassing time would have to be falling down the mountain, for the fifth time. By the way I was drunk not clumsy, drunk."

Snape looked at Harry with disbelief and wonder. "Salazar Slytherin?"

"Yup."

"You don't act like him."

"And just how long have you been alive?" Harry ranted. "I got this same lecture from Ron. Evidently Salazar Slytherin is equated with pure bloods in general and Malfoys in particular. I am nothing like Malfoy. I have never hated muggles specifically. I only think they are bigots, which wizards are too."

"Not hate muggles."

"I hate indiscriminately."

Snape bent over his desk laughing. The man actually laughed. "That was a good try Potter. You had me fooled for a while there. The vetriserum act was played real well. But to get someone to believe the exact opposite of what a thousand years of history has proven is preposterous." He stopped laughing and looked a stunned Harry in the eyes. "Detention tomorrow at eight pm, and practice your Occulmancy. Now get back to your dorm."

Harry got up as dignified as he could while drugged and walked to the door where he turned around to face his professor. "I told you, you wouldn't believe me, but just for kicks why don't you reweigh your vile of vetriserum." Then he left.

Snape frowned at the open door to his office for a while. The boy was even more infuriating than usual. How would he know that Snape weighed each and every one of his vials once a week? He looked at the vile sitting on his desk and snapped it up. He cast the weighing charm. It was almost a gram lighter, about three drops worth. The idiot boy had been under the effect of the drug. He hadn't been lying. Snape sat staring at the vial until he felt the searing pain in his arm calling him to his lord's side.

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Harry stumbled back to his dorm in tears. The hardest thing about vetriserum wasn't that you couldn't lie to others under its influence; it was that you couldn't lie to yourself. Not that Harry could lie anyway. For once, no matter how crazy he sounded Harry wanted someone to believe him. It was a long shot that Snape would believe him, but having taken vetriserum, surely he would be believed.

He mumbled the password to the Fat Lady and made his way up to the sixth year dorm where he threw himself on his bed. He rolled over to stare at the curtains above him. He had no idea how long he had been lying there before he felt the familiar pain in his scar. Voldemort was calling for a meeting again, and by the excitement Harry felt from the Dark Lord, it was something big.

Harry narrowed his eyes. He was tired of waiting. Screw the fact that he didn't know how he was going to beat Voldemort; tonight was the night Harry would formally challenge him for the position of Dark Lord. He got up and went into the bathroom. He stared into the mirror.

No one takes a kid seriously, no matter how old he really was. Harry's looks were detrimental to his cause. Salazar had had another persona that he liked to use when he was being "incognito." He wondered if it would work now. It required high level transformation magic, but it was nothing Harry couldn't handle. It was much like an animagus transformation, but it was more delicate, and a lot more upsetting to mind and body.

Harry closed his eyes and pictured the image clearly in his mind. A little change here, a little more there, complete overhaul down there, longer hair. The reflection in the mirror morphed and changed. Hair sprouted and grew in longer and thicker. The body filled out: wider hips and breast. When Harry opened his eyes a lovely young woman with a heart shaped face stared back at him. He studied the face critically before changing the eyes from green to gold. Arisa was back.

Arisa looked fine as far a she could tell, but her scar was still a visible line on her brow. She grabbed he wand out of her robes and took the chance that there was a sack full of makeup somewhere in the girl's dorms. "Accio makeup." She got more than she bargained for. No less than six heavy bags of makeup zipped into the room strait toward her head. She ducked and let the bags hit the mirror with repetitive thuds.

She opened the baby pink bag and fished around for the concealer. She pulled out the little glass bottle, Verreta's All Blemish Concealer in caramel skin tones. Too dark, she thought opening the next bag. The same brand in light cream. She tested the color on her wrist, still too dark.

Arisa went through two more bags before she found a bottle that said, "For the almost dead girl." She made a note to get out in the sun more often. Locking herself in a room for the whole summer had bleached her skin almost white. She quickly sponged some out onto her scar. The concealer blended itself beautifully with her pale skin. "Nice, now lets see what else they invented in the past thousand years."

A few minutes later she was done. Dusky shadow graced her eyes and she had use one girls pink tented lip gloss to accent her lips. A little blush gave her a more living look. "Now for the hard part." Arisa said looking down at her school robes. "What ever shall I wear?"

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The Dark Lord Voldemort looked over his cowering servants. They were all useless. He could still feel that raw dark power pulsing in the back of his mind; the challenger to his reign as Dark Lord, and it was coming for him. No one in his ranks had found anything pertaining to the dark presence. Only a few even felt it.

Voldemort raised his wand and cast crucio once more on the masked and cowled man on the ground before him. He watched the man writhe in pain, and sighed inaudibly.

As much as he loved to see others in pain he could not personally torture every subordinate for their failure or he would be here all night. Taking over the world was such a kill joy sometimes, but they had to be punished. If they started whispering that he was going soft he would have to do something drastic and then find new subordinates.

"Malfoy," he whispered to the man standing next to him. "I want you and Bellatrix to punish those outside the inner circle."

The cowled figure knelt down and kissed Voldemort's robes, "Yes my Lord. It shall be as you say."

Voldemort did not answer, instead he gestured to the anonymous flunkies on his right. "Move him." The two quickly stepped forward and dragged their groaning comrade off to the side where Snape was passing out healing potions like candy. "Crabbe, it is time for you to give your report. What have you found on this mysterious dark wizard?" the big man fell to his knees before his Lord and gulped down his bile.

"He knows nothing," a clear feminine voice called out from the back of the group. Voldemort snapped his head toward the voice and trained his eyes on a black cloaked figure blending perfectly with his servants. "Though I am disappointed. You still think that I am a man?"

The figure walked forward forcibly parting the see of black cloaks with a shield spell. The woman came to stand right behind the kneeling Crabbe and pushed back her hood with one delicate hand. With the cloak flung back it was obvious that the woman didn't belong here. She was wearing a pale blue gown with a thin black ribbon wound around her waist several times in what looked like a complicated pattern. No woman in Voldemort's ranks wore anything but black to the Deatheater meetings.

"Who are you?" Voldemort hissed at the young looking woman.

She only smiled. "I am the one you are looking for, of course." She looked around herself with seeming interest. "What's this little get together about?"

"You are brave to walk into the enemy's den unarmed."

"Don't assume." The woman retorted. She looked around once more her eyes stopping on Belatrix. Her golden eyes seemed to catch fire and the woman glared at Bellatrix with pure hatred.

Interesting, our young dark witch seems to know our Bella. Voldemort made a note to ask Bellatrix if she knew the woman from somewhere. "So why would a beautiful young woman like yourself come here."

The woman laughed a rich deep laugh. "Watching you flounder is no longer fun. I have come to bring my challenge out into the open. I am the Dark Lord and you will soon be dead like you should have been fifteen years ago."

"You seem to know much about me."

"No more than others would."

Voldemort smiled. "I don't think you have what it takes to kill me." He snapped his fingers, and as one those standing closest to the woman moved in.

The woman flung her arms wide throwing up a shield that threw the Deatheaters back. "You think that I can't kill you or that I can't kill period. She reached down and grabbed Crabbe by the chin pulling him into a standing position. She gave Voldemort a wicked smile before plunging her hand into the man's chest and pulling out his still beating heart. Crabbe's body fell unheeded to the ground as the woman crushed the heart in her grip. "Mark my words Tom; I will kill you and anyone who stands with you." She delicately licked the blood off her hand like a cat. She laughed once more and disaperated.

Voldemort was somewhat shocked. So this brazen female was his challenger, all was not as it seemed. No one waltzes into an enemy stronghold and kills one man only to leave. You're right, a voice whispered in his mind. I was never really there that was only a projection of myself. If you were a true Dark Lord that is the power you could have. So try for it; I want to see you struggle.

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Wow that was a long one almost 5000 words by my counter. Hey I'm too lazy to look anything up so if I spelled any of the terms from the book wrong please tell me so I can fix it. Thank you very much.