Author's Note: Update 09/08/2013: My advice to readers - power past this chapter and the next. they mark my return to the story after a long hiatus, and the shifts are- in public opinion - jarring. On the other hand, it's been rather smooth sailing after that. And if anybody's reading this today, Eid Mubarak! Or at the very least, enjoy a three-day weekend!

Chapter 7: Betrayal

Harry awoke with the feeling that there was something very, very wrong with the world. He didn't knew how long it had been since he had fallen asleep, time seemed to have no meaning in this place.

He sat up and stretched, letting out a relieved groan as he felt the kinks in his neck and shoulders release with a series of pops. Grimacing, he reached back and felt the back of his neck. He was sweating profusely.

For the first time, he wished he had his wand with him.

No sooner had he wished this, did he feel a sudden weight in his pocket. Reaching into it, a small smile spread over his face as he felt warmth shoot up his limb as soon as his fingers came in contact with eleven inches of holly.

He got to his feet, stretching his legs for a bit. Night had fallen, and there was only the faintest of lights coming from far, far away.

The rest of the world around him was darkness, he couldn't see anything else for miles around. Sighing, and seeing no other option, he began to walk towards the light.

Like a moth drawn to a flame, he ventured closer and closer to it until he finally realized that he was standing in an empty field. Hovering above the grass were millions of shining little crystals, each of them burning with the brilliance of his stars.

Beautiful they may have been, but at the same time, there was something...off about them, for lack of a better word. It felt like they didn't fit into his essence, like they were a contradiction of his very being.

He raised his wand, levelling it at the sea of crystals. They hummed and glowed a little more brightly, unless he was mistaken.

Deciding to go with a bit of magic – he really had no other option – he aimed it at a cluster of crystals and muttered, 'Wingardium Leviosa.'

He was unprepared for what happened next; not only did his spell completely fail to work, but at the same time, he was almost driven to his knees by the alien, unnatural aura that drove him to his knees. He was overwhelmed by the sensations, trying to drown out the inherent feeling of wrongness he got from these bright lights.

Inhuman, he realized, that's the word for it. Whatever this is, this isn't human.

He stood up again, wand still at the ready. He had an inkling of an idea as he realized where he had come in contact with this sort of magic before...

Callida, he realized, a sinking feeling in his stomach. But is this part of the training, or is there something else going on?

Growing up alone at the Dursleys and surviving his school years with a madman after him, Harry had learnt over the years to trust his instincts. At the moment, though, his instincts were screaming wrong!

It was almost like the tiny lights could feel his emotions – as soon as they felt his suspicions, they began humming a little louder and burning more brightly, but this time, they seemed to give off a welcoming, reassuring aura.

Curious, he thought, reiterating the words of a certain wandmaker, very curious.

The lights, he suddenly realized, were slowly stretching forward and extending into his...insides? Soul?

Deciding to investigate, he readied his wand and started moving forward, ready and at the alert, while a part of him couldn't help but wonder –

Why is it always me who ends up in situations like this? Fifteen years old and on the cusp of a War if Dumbledore's behaviour is anything to go by, and completely out of my depth.

At least he had an ancient Succubus on his side, he reasoned mildly.

Who may or may not be deceiving me at this very moment, another side of him countered.

He stopped short as an icy chill suddenly went down his spine. Looking down at his feet, he realized that he had just run out of land. The stretch of grass beneath his feet, illuminated by the sea – no, a bridge of crystals – he realized, had fallen off into a chilling darkness beyond.

He raised his foot, as if testing the shadows before him, but then brought it down hesitantly. He knew better than most what charging forward half-cocked would do, and he wasn't about to make a mistake again.

'Lumos Solem' he whispered instead, waving his wand at the great void beyond him.

A small ball of light formed at the tip of his wand before it flew into the milling darkness beyond him. It illuminated nothing but endless looming shadow as it vanished into the horizon; it was almost like he was standing at the edge of the world and looking at the void beyond.

And then he suddenly backpedalled, his heart pumping in his chest; beating so loudly that he thought that it would break out of his ribs.

Right before his light had disappeared, he had sworn that he had seen one of the shadows take the form of a narrow mask, its maw wide open...

Without a doubt, he now knew that he was looking at the shade of Voldemort within him.

Harry sat down on the grass heavily, making sure that there was a safe distance between him and the edge. He was having a hard time computing what was going on, and with no other option available that he could see, he settled down to wait again.

No sleep overtook him this time; he was too antsy to get a sliver of rest. He hated this feeling of waiting, of feeling helpless, but there was nothing else that he could do.

Unless...quelling the trepidation that rose within him like a tidal wave, Harry reached out and touched one of the tiny crystals hovering above the grass with the tip of his finger.

A battlefield. Charred corpses around her – him? – reminding him of the carnage that their enemy had wrought.

Blood on steel. His blood, the blood of the soldiers of the attacking army.

A final, desperate thrust forward. And when victory seemed in hand – a blaze of light, and then...Darkness.

Harry recoiled with a gasp, his chest heaving as he took long, harsh gulps of air. There was no mistaking it; he had just experienced some of Calli's own memories.

What is going on here?

Hopefully, the day would bring answers with it, but it was a long, long time before he saw the first rays of light appear on the horizon. Even then, it was in the direction from which he had come – he sighed, anticipating another long walk.

He watched as the pinkish rays of dawn painted the landscape around him, the brilliance of the crystals next to him dimming in the sunlight. However, as the sun rose further and the day started in earnest, he realized something strange was going on.

Turning around to look at the milling shadow that was the bit of Voldemort within him, Harry saw that it seemed to be sucking in any light that neared it like some gigantic black hole – the entire area surrounding the darkness seemed to be stuck in a battle of light and dark. With a gulp, he realized that the darkness seemed to be winning that particular battle.

Even more curious was the fact that the shadows looked like it was contained inside a huge glass ball – they milled and shifted about, but as far as he could see, it was completely stationary in one place as a whole.

The Basilisk, he deduced, the Basilisk did petrify the piece of Voldemort inside me.

This was a comforting realization to say the least. Harry was absolutely sure that he did not want any of that black...thing tainting his essence any more than it already had.

Turning his attention to the other matter at hand, he turned to look at the crystals next to him. They looked like ordinary diamonds in the light – well, as ordinary as a thick belt of diamonds hovering in midair could look, anyway.

He cocked his head sideways as a niggling fact eluded him; whatever it was, he was sure that it was the key to this entire business.

His eyes narrowed as they looked at the bridge before him, and then turned to the shadows next to him. The very next second, they had widened to the size of Galleons as he realized the truth –

Betrayal and fury rose within him like a tidal wave, but even greater was the feeling of self-disgust that rose within him. He had been so confident and narrow-minded in his thinking, so drunk in the promise of power that he had been played for a fool. And played well, he realized as a kind of numbing shock that overtook him, as he realized that Calli had been lying all along.

He had been tricked badly he realized, his anger directed more at himself than anything else. All it had taken was for a half-naked, conniving woman to flash him a bit of skin, and he had played along like every typical teenager, even while he had thought that he was being so high and mighty by trying to push her away.

Harry sank to his knees, realizing just how out of his depths he truly was for the first time. Callida had managed to get her claws into him and he hadn't even realized it, hell, she had claimed a part of his soul without him even protesting it! He had gone along with it like a lovesick puppy!

Anger overtook him as he punched the grass in anger, ignoring the reverberating pain that shot up his hand.

I'm a blasted fool! He cursed. He was nothing more than a fifteen year old swimming in an ocean of old, experienced sharks.

He pulled out his wand. But this fifteen year old will have his say even if everything's looking down, he thought. If he was going down this way, he wouldn't fall without putting out a fight.

He brought his wand down in an arc, releasing three Exploding Curses in one fluid movement. They passed through the crystals like they didn't even exist, instead colliding with the soil underneath.

Harry doubled over, clutching his chest as he suddenly felt an inexplicable, unnatural feeling within him. It was like somebody was tearing his soul apart –

He stiffened in shock, realizing that that was exactly what he had just done. Blackness started to close in on his vision, much to his horror, eating away at the corners of his world before it overwhelmed him completely.

The next thing that he knew, he was awake on his sofa in the house at Godric's Hollow. Green eyes took a moment to focus before the situation hit him, and he leapt forward with a snarl, intent on finding Callida and punishing her for what she had done.

It was then that he realized that his hands and leg were tightly bound, and all he managed to do was fall over in his haste to get to the Succubus.

Never mind, he thought, his temper rising, I have more tricks up my sleeve.

"Dobby!" he roared, intent on calling the house-elf to help him out. "Dobby!" he roared again, when there was no reply.

"It's no use, Harry," her voice was like honey, she sounded amused more than anything else. "It was ridiculously easy to overcome your pathetic elf."

"You bitch," Harry growled, wishing he could find his wand and blast the smug smile off her face as she came into view.

"Now now, Harry," she said, the smile never leaving her face, "that's not very nice, is it?"

She tapped the edge of his chin with one long, manicured nail, looking infinitely pleased with herself. Harry bit out sharply with his mouth, but she was too quick for him.

"Oh, the little Potter has some fight left in him, does he?" she crooned, her eyes crinkling up as she laughed. Harry couldn't help and think how glorious and terrible she looked at the same time, the woman – creature, he corrected – who now held another stake in his life.

Would he never be free from the manipulations of people?

"You promised you would help me out," he spat, "not this!"

"Oh, is Harry angry?" she asked in a mock-baby voice. "Are you really so naive to believe that the world is so simple, that it is Light versus Dark, just Voldemort and his Death Eaters and you and the rest of the Wizarding World? The world is filled with shades of grey, Harry, and it is better that you learnt this lesson now, and not later in the battlefield."

"Screw you!" he yelled, thrashing against the ropes that bound him.

"Is that an offer?" she asked salaciously, before her eyes became cold. "I was taught the art of manipulation long before you were even born, Harry. Theatricality and Deception are two of the greatest tenets of our race, and I was well versed in them even in my youth."

"What have you done to me?!"

"Nothing serious," she said idly, looking down at him through veiled eyes. "Just ensured a bit of safety for both of us..."

"Both of us?!" Harry shot back, "you expect me to believe that, after all the lies you've fed me? I'll crush you once I'm free, take my word!"

"You won't have a choice," Calli replied with a smirk, "for better or for worse, the two of us now share a bond, for lack of a better word. A two-way road, if you will. You gain some of my strength, and at the same time, I gain your support."

"What makes you think I'll ever do what you say?! I'd sooner kill you than listen to you!"

"And you'd die in the process," Calli said with a laugh, enjoying the dumbstruck look on Harry's face. "Two way street, Harry, two way street. Think twice before you harm me, because you'll be doing the same to yourself."

"Why did you do this?" Harry asked, "I would have helped you nonetheless."

"Over time, Harry," she said, "I have learnt that humans are nothing more than liars and cheats – I would rather have a failsafe than trust in one of your kind. Besides, in this way, you have no way of backing out, of going back on your deal."

"I could kill myself," Harry threatened, "Two way deal, right? That would mean the end of you too, wouldn't it?"

"It would," she said calmly, like she was commenting on the weather, "but you won't do it. You're a hero, Harry, taking down Dark Wizards and rescuing damsels in distress. You wouldn't run away from Voldemort by taking the easy way out."

"You never know," Harry said, "I could roll into this table and make it fall. I could let the glass shatter and fall on me. That might be enough to kill me."

Violet eyes met green, before she smiled. Harry slumped, knowing his bluff had failed.

"Impressive attempt, Harry Potter," she praised, but Harry only scowled in reply. "But you are centuries too early to even think of deceiving me."

"I'll find a way to get back at you for this," Harry promised, a scowl etched onto his face. "If it's the last thing you do."

"Oh, it will be the last thing you do," she said in return. "Besides, you got what you wanted, didn't you? You will benefit from the bond as well. Already you will be able to gain a rudimentary sensation of magic around you, while you receive a bonus of a nice little increase in your strength."

Harry was so surprised that he shut up for a second, and then he realized it. It was like a faint buzzing in his skull, as if his brain was taking in a completely new set of sensations. It was very faint, but he could feel a faint aura coming off Callida.

"Yes, you can feel it, can't you?" Calli asked, a triumphant smirk on her face. "Under my tutelage, you will be able to nurture that talent along with several others."

What have I landed myself into?

"You can go to hell!" he said, "I wouldn't dream of taking lessons from you."

A smack across the face caught him off guard. "Foolish boy," she hissed, and a primal part of him was suddenly terrified at the anger on her face. "Still you whine and complain, when you have been given something men have sold their souls for! I could have raped you where you sat and drained you until you were nothing but a husk, I could have crushed your mind until you wouldn't be able to remember who you were!"

Harry blanched, but quickly covered it with an expression of anger. Calli, however, noticed and seized on it to continue further.

"You want to defeat Voldemort?" she asked imperiously, "then I would suggest you grow up first. You're going to need every ounce of power and every bit of cunning you can dredge up to beat him, and you should be thanking me on bended knee that I let you get off so lightly in our deal. I felt the Dark Lord's power when I was his captive, Potter, and you are nothing but a cockroach before his power!"

"But –"

"But nothing! All power comes at a price," Harry froze as he heard the same words he had heard not so long ago, "and you paid a very small one in my opinion."

"You latched yourself onto my soul!" Harry yelled, "How is that getting off easy?"

"I'm also actively preventing the Dark Lord's soul fragment from doing the same, if you didn't notice in your jaunt inside!" she snapped.

Harry froze completely as the true enormity of the situation hit him. "Voldemort's soul is inside me?" he asked, suddenly feeling unclean and filthy.

"Yes," she replied tersely, "it is a kind of magic even I have not heard of, leading me to believe that it draws on the very roots of Dark Magic. You are going to need everything you can muster to fight that, Harry," she said, reverting to the usage of his given name, "so I'm going to ask you one last time. Yes, I played you like a harp and used you for my own gain. Yes, at the same time, you gained some benefits from it. Yes, it does increase your chances somewhat of surviving the war to come."

"And finally, Yes, your power could increase if you trained under me instead of trying to fight what I've done. So what say you, Harry Potter?"

I should have heeded the book's warning, Harry thought as his mind began racing a mile a minute, Succubi were said to have played with men until they were nothing but slaves at their command.

But what other option is there? Another part of his mind argued. This actually could have been a lot worse! Yes, I got tricked, but at the same time, I can't got something out of it, if what she says is true.

But how can I trust what she says anymore?

I can't.

"I don't trust you," he said, glaring up at her impotently.

"It would be foolish of you to do so," she agreed, sounding unsurprised, "but actions will speak louder than my words in time. You are yet to answer me, though," she said, raising her eyebrow.

"I'll learn for now," he growled, hating the victorious look in her eye. Shifting his gaze away, he left her with one last threat.

"But you will pay for what you've done."

XoX

This had been long overdue, Harry thought, as he made his way down to the village. He was under his Invisibility Cloak – it had never failed to give him a sense of security. When he was under it, he was hidden and safe away from the world and all its troubles.

Dobby's cries for forgiveness were still ringing in his ears as he walked down the earthen road that led into the village. The elf had been devastated that he had failed his master in his time of need, and only Harry's timely interference had stopped him from punishing himself in proportion to the severity of his transgressions.

It's not your fault, Dobby, Harry had told him, throwing a dirty look at the other, smugly grinning occupant of the room. The teenage wizard had only just managed to stop himself from hurling a couple of Curses at the Succubus.

His mind was still festering with plans, though, as he let his legs carry him down the road. Callida had said that he couldn't kill her without killing himself...

But she didn't say anything about causing her any pain, Harry thought, a smirk growing on his face.

He stopped short as he finally arrived at the destination he had been headed towards. How he had found it he didn't know – perhaps he felt a pull towards his home even after all these years?

Home. The word felt strange on his tongue, as he looked at the ruins of the cottage in front of him. The top left corner of the house was blown in, and he was sure that that was where he had been given his scar.

He reached out to touch the wicket gate, and almost like it recognized his touch, a sign sprang up from the overgrown garden.

His heart soared as he read the plethora of messages on it – not one of them carried anything negative in them; they carried only messages of support, kindness and...heroworship?

Harry shuddered slightly, Colin Creevey inexplicably crossing his mind.

He opened the gate and walked inside cautiously. His hand trembled as he walked the length of the garden, his eyes drinking in the sights around him before he reached for the doorknob.

Twisting it open and making his way inside, he immediately noticed that it seemed to be quite clean – this was obviously some sort of tourist destination. He couldn't pinpoint the sensation that the thought gave him, deciding to dwell on it later.

The moonlight drifting through the air made it unnecessary for him to light up his wand as he ran his hand over the table of the living room.

Had they sat here together as a family, him and James and Lily, before Voldemort had come and torn their family apart? He knew without a shade of doubt here that he had been loved here, where he was baby Harry, a young couple's first son.

He made his way upstairs and turned right towards his parents' bedroom. The queen-sized bed looked like it had been made that very evening, with not a wrinkle out of place. Photographs adorned the place, and he recognized all of them from the album Hagrid had given him.

For that very reason, he let them remain, and also because of the fact that items missing from the Potter home would undoubtedly throw up a stink.

After he had stayed in the room for what seemed like an indeterminable amount of time, he turned away and walked across the corridor to his room, only pausing for a few moments to look at the bathtub in the small room next to his own nursery.

The door to his room was open – deliberately or by chance he did not know, and he found it hard to care as he looked at the wreckage before him.

While protective spells had obviously been cast to protect it from the elements, nothing else had been changed here as well. In the corner was a crib, where he had vanquished Lord Voldemort for the first time when he was nothing more than a child.

And that old dream resurfaced again, as Harry caressed the toy duck that rested on one of his shelves and took in the pale blue shade of the walls.

A high, cold laugh...a flash of green light...

Harry turned around and walked away, making his way down the house. His chest felt tight as memories started to return to him of his encounters with Voldemort, and he realized that the house was still not free from the demons of the past.

He made his way outside and turned around to look at the place where it had all begun, before he made his way outside and onto the main road.

It wasn't long after that he came to the war memorial in the main square, but it changed its appearance as he neared. Once more, he wondered at the scar-less baby in Lily's arms, and at the look of pure love on their faces – or was he simply imagining it because that was the way he hoped it was?

Again he stood gazing at the memorial and mulling over his thoughts, before he moved past it and made for his final, most awaited destination.

He had to walk a bit before he found the graveyard, but he quickened his pace once it came into view. As he pushed open the kissing gate and made his way inside, a cool breeze picked up and caressed his face, and he felt like he was almost being welcomed inside.

He paced through the gravestones, wondering at the many familiar names he found, and wondering how he had so many roots in this village.

It was then that he found them, not too far away from one of what must have been Susan Bones' ancestors.

James Potter

Lily Potter

He finally let the emotions that had been building up within him go, and tears raced down his cheeks as he crumpled to his knees before them.

"Mom, dad," he whispered, "It's me, Harry. Your son."

For a second, he had the inkling of a thought that this was a stupid thing to do, but he pushed that thought away even before it had a chance to form completely in his head.

This was his parents, and he was their son, and there was nothing stupid or infantile about this.

"I'm scared," he confessed, finally naming the sensation he had been feeling after Calli's ploy had been revealed. "I'm out of my depths here, Mum, Dad. I'm lost, and I don't know what to do. It seems like everybody's trying to manipulate me, and I'm flying blind. Can't I trust anybody?" he whispered. "Dumbledore, Sirius, Ron, Hermione, Calli...they've all turned on me, and I don't know if I can take it anymore."

Almost like magic, a lone leaf curled down, borne by the wind and over his shoulder. He took it as a sign, curling his fist around it and clenching down hard on it.

"I know," he whispered, imagining that they were speaking back to him. "I'm trying to be strong, to not give up, but it's so hard. I don't know how long I can keep this up."

But they had no real reply for him, because they were nothing but bones in the ground now. Harry began sobbing in earnest as no answer made itself known, until he was clenched over and crying out his pain and frustration, feeling every inch like the lonely and helpless teenager he was.

He was surprised when he felt a hand grip his shoulder. He rubbed his eyes and growled when Callida came into view.

How dare she come and disturb me HERE?! He raged, but she spoke before he could.

"I know I shouldn't have come, but I have to look out for you too," she said softly, taking him by surprise. "My life is now in your hands as much as yours is in mine."

Harry tried to ignore the weight of that sentence, instead concentrating on the rest of her speech.

"You've been following me?" he half snarled, half asked. "How long?"

She sighed. "Long enough. Harry, you can't afford to break down now –"

"So when do I get to break down?" Harry roared, his temper snapping. "When do I get a chance to be normal, to be happy? Why does it have to be me in this – stupid – fight?"

"Are you quite done?" she asked, as he panted once he had finished ranting.

"Yes," Harry muttered, now feeling stupid, even though it did feel rather good to vent.

"Good," she said, "we can now get to work on your skills."

"Already?" he asked, too surprised to even throw a dirty comment her way.

"Would you rather wait for Voldemort to hunt you down?" she asked politely, as she gave on last respectful nod of his head at his parents, vowing to return with flowers the next time.

"No," he replied through gritted teeth, "What do you want to teach me?"

"Mistress," she replied, catching him off guard, "Call me Mistress when I'm training you."

Harry almost spluttered in shocks at the connotations of her words and the way she emphasized that word in a breathy voice, but he managed to reel his temper in at the last moment.

"Self-control," she said, sounding approving, "you'll need it for what I teach you next."

"And what might that be?" Harry asked, telling himself that it would do him no good to curse her senseless while she still had something left to teach him, "Mistress," he added as she threw him a look, disliking the way the word felt on his tongue.

"Occlumency," she replied simply, but it was enough to catch Harry's interest.

"The Mind Arts?" he asked, surprised. They were a rather exotic branch of magic he had come across during his extensive reading for the Tournament, but he had been able to find nothing but the barest of descriptions. "You'll teach me to seal my mind off from foreign attacks?"

She was so surprised that she almost fell over in shock. They came to a stop and she regarded him for a long moment before she threw her head back and laughed.

Don't curse her, Harry told himself firmly, don't curse her, however much you want to. She can teach you stuff.

"Oh, that was priceless," she said, wiping a stray tear from her eyes, "what, did you imagine building walls around your mind or a mindscape like your soul?"

That was actually exactly what Harry had imagined when he had read about it, but he wisely kept silent.

"You poor thing," Callida said, still shaking her head in exasperation, "Occlumency is all about learning to lie."

XoX

Author's Note: As you can see, my writing style has changed somewhat – I think – and the characters have taken a slight turn as well. I hope this doesn't go down too badly, because I can work with this, trust me.

Reviews, then? Thank you beforehand. You people haven't let me down so far, far from it!