Proditio

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I only own the plot, OCs if they ever happen, and possibly some spells that I may make up that weren't introduced in Harry Potter. I make no money for this and this is merely for entertainment purposes.

Warnings: Brief mentions of child abuse. Being manipulated, betrayal, eating disorders, death, etc. OOC for the light side.

A/N: This is the first long story I have written. I hope you guys like it! This story is beta'd by my friend Emerald Daylily. I hope you enjoy!

-o-

Harry apparated straight back into his room at Privet Drive when Aunt Petunia barged in rudely holding a bowl of cold rice, a small cup of water and some stale vegetables. Her face had a disdainful look, which in Harry's opinion did not suit that horse-faced bint at all, not that anything suited her face.

He grabbed the tray and sneered back at Petunia and she seemed surprised by his stupidity and almost slapped him before remembering what that Dumblydork man or something.

She rudely slammed the door and stomped out. Harry glared at the door murderously. How he wanted to torture the Dursleys and do exactly what they did to him.

One day they will pay, he vowed to himself darkly.

Pushing away his bloody thoughts, he glanced at the pitiful things that were barely considered to be food. The smell was ghastly and he wrinkled his nose; it smelled absolutely disgusting and he would bet everything he own that it would taste equally, if not worse.

Sighing, he called for Dobby, hoping that the house-elf would provide him with food even it was a bit better.

He called for Dobby and the elf popped in. Dobby was looking much healthier than he was with the Malfoys. All his bruises had healed from Harry ordering him to use his own magic to heal himself. Instead of a ragged and moldy pillowcase, he was now dressed neatly with a white shirt a black vest and under that was a white button-down with a yellow tie. He was wearing neatly pressed pants and his big watery eyes stared up at Harry eagerly and bowed to Harry: "How may Dobby serve Master Harry?"

Harry smiled fondly at his one true friend except Hedwig. Dobby was much better now, speaking in proper English and wasn't over eager and Harry had ordered him to never ever punish himself no matter what circumstances. The house elf had calmed down a lot more since he had last called Dobby and he was much better now.

Harry silently gave the tray to Dobby with a pointed look. Dobby looked horrified at the food. Even at the Malfoys, he hadn't been fed these horrid, horrid food. He was quite mad that his Master Harry was forced to eat such food. His master was the best and deserved better the best. Dobby glanced up at Harry with a determined face. "Dobby will make master a new meal. Master must not eat scraps." He said sternly.

Harry smiled and thanked Dobby, and changed back into his normal clothes. Sitting down on his bed, he got his new trunk and enlarged all the books he got. The trunk could be activated with a password. He had done so with open in parseltongue. Considering he and Voldemort were the only parselmouths left in the world, and he didn't think Voldemort would raid through his trunk, he deemed it safe and jumped in the trunk with all his books.

It was like one of the magical tents from the World Cup. Everything inside was much larger than what it seemed outside, and it was portable.

He landed on his backside on the cold wooden floor. Grumbling, he never seemed to have any luck landing for no matter what. He stood up, rubbing his sore backside, groaning. His mood brightened by a lot after seeing how massive the trunk was.

It was wonderful; there was a kitchen and dining room combined in one, a living room, a bedroom, a library-study, a bathroom, and a potions lab. He could also change the colors by tapping his wand on a surface and thinking of a specific color to suit his preferences.

He grinned at the thought of hiding in his trunk all day. Everything was humongous compared to what he was used to and the trace wouldn't be detected in the trunk as there were too many enchantments overlaying so he could practice magic with his wand without the risk of being caught. Picking up his stash of books, he moved towards the library.

Turning the knob, he gaped at the room. The room was the size of a Hogwarts classroom. It was definitely worth the prize if the other rooms were also up to this standard. Each wall was covered in empty wooden bookshelves with a fake window on the wall the desk was facing, mimicking the outside weather.

Kind of like the Hogwarts enchanted windows in the great hall. Granger would cut off and arm and leg for a room like this, he thought. Dropping his books on the floor, he started changing the colours of different things in the room to suit his liking.

Taking his wand from his sleeve, he happily changed the bookshelf changed the bookshelf to a dark oak color. His heart surged warmly as it dawned on him that it was like another new start. A new home that was his, that he took part in, and was part of. Albeit temporary, the trunk was like his first home.

-o-

In Hogwarts, he felt like he belonged, but this was now his home. His sanctuary. Every day of his childhood he hoped and begged for a safe home to return to, and now he had one. He smiled brightly at the thought of having his own home, and suddenly felt something settle over his home.

He turned around, alarmed, but relaxed when he felt that it was the blood wards that once protected him. He now thought this place as his home, therefore the wards and the sacrifice his mother left him would protect this place opposed to that blasted house now until he was seventeen.

Grinning from ear to ear, he relished in the warmth of his mother's magic that was rolling around in waves, and continued to change the colors of the room. The room was now of a Ravenclaw theme, with sapphire blue and dark brown with some gray and silver. Dobby suddenly popped in, almost giving Harry a heart attack, and the house-elf was holding a tray with his head bent low.

"Master Harry's food."

Harry gave a small smile and accepted the tray and sat on the chair behind the desk, putting the tray on the table pondering what to do next. Dobby popped away silently and Harry leaned back to the chair, hunger temporarily forgotten.

What would he do? His whole life since entering the wizarding world was led after all. Then, he had his so-called friends, had a place to be, know what he had to do, and knew that he had to be the 'hero' and everything.

Now, he had no idea what to even do. Did he even know who he himself is? Spending so long being the hero that he hated so much had almost made him believe that person was himself.

I don't want to be a stupid meaningless hero, he thought. The Wizarding World had turned on him again and again, and still expected him to cater to their every whims. No, he would become powerful, vanquish Voldemort and take revenge for what the man had took away from him. His knuckles whitened as he gripped his fist tighter.

Pushing away his thoughts for now, he sighed and grabbed the tray and started eating. The food was wonderful, as always; house-elves made great food. It was a medium-rare steak with some asparagus on the side.

He looked at the beef and slowly devoured it and let his mind wander. Would he return to Hogwarts? He had no desire be near the gold diggers and the manipulative headmaster. He scowled. He really screwed up when he chose to go to Gryffindor. Because Slytherin was 'evil', and Gryffindor was 'good'.

Harry sighed. It seemed so tiring, that he almost wished he was back to when he was eleven. Everything was so simple back then. There were only black and white, good and evil, light and dark.

Now he had matured, he realized that everything was bloody complicated and shoved his face into his hands and groaned. His appetite was now gone. Grumbling and vanishing the food, he sat up and looked to outside to the window. It seemed like the world shouldn't have to all be on his shoulders, his burden to carry.

But in the end, he would never give up. The desire to see the person who had mercilessly take away his family suffer like he himself did was too strong. It had been planted too deep in him since day one.

But how would he do that? Voldemort himself was probably about seventy, now that Harry thought of it. Sixteen-year-old Tom Riddle had attended Hogwarts fifty years ago, which was probably sometime in the 1940s. How was he supposed to fight a guy who couldn't manage to die, with unimaginable power, with minions, and decades of experience?

It was impossible, but Harry Potter was nothing if not determined. And Harry had done his fair share of impossible since he was one, and the Potter luck was on his side… No matter. He would be the best he can and do the best he can. Hopefully… fate would be on his side for once.

Occluding his meaningless thoughts away, he cheered up as he went to sort out his new books. There were above thirty-five books in total; most of them were about offensive or dark magic. Know thy enemy, he thought grimly. He would have to fully understand what Death Eaters and Voldemort used to counter or shield against them.

Looking through the pile of books which were mostly in good condition, he saw one that piqued his interest. There was one that had a part dedicated to tracking charms that were illegal and to check if there were any tracking charms, and how one could remove them. This part had also included how to remove the trace.

Harry mentally whooped; he would have to use his wand somewhere when he wasn't in his trunk or in Hogwarts. It wasn't if he could really do much without a wand, just the basics in subjects which he was good in, like charms and defense.

Transfiguration required a wand, and merlin knows just how useful it would be to use transfiguration in a duel. Not wasting anytime, he opened the book with anticipation and turned to the select page.

Apparently, to remove the trace, he had to make a certain advanced aging potion to trick the trace that he was seventeen, and the trace therefore should go right off. The trace was on the wand, which was applied again when the first years cross the lake to Hogwarts, in case of children using hand-me-downs.

So he basically just had to brew an aging potion or buy it- it actually wasn't too hard to brew, it seemed like. Harry was a decent brewer when Snape wasn't breathing down his neck or Granger being jealous of being behind him. He snorted. Granger would be getting a huge surprise if he decided to return this year.

-o-

Climbing out of his trunk, he changed into robes again and apparated straight to where he first let off and glamoured himself again. The book had said that he needed a crystal cauldron, which he assumed would cost quite a bit… it was worth it anyways.

Walking straight into Slugs and Jiggers, he quickly grabbed his ingredients and the crystal cauldron, which costed quite a bit. The man at the counter was glancing at him suspiciously but still handed him the items albeit reluctantly after he had paid.

Harry went straight back to his trunk than took out his shrunken cauldron and ingredients and enlarged them again. He was beginning to feel tired after all the magic he had used today. Magic was a muscle, and he had not nearly practiced enough.

He got back to the books and put in a powdered dragon's claw, heating it under a brewer that had come with the cauldron and lit it by tapping his wand on it.

Conjuring some water into the cauldron, he slowly sprinkled in powdered asphodel, and stirred it clockwise for seven times and anti-clockwise for five times. The potion now turning in a light green shade, he followed the instructions and added some ashwinder eggs in it, the potion abruptly turning into a bright purple.

Quickly stirring it in, he added the other ingredients in and it finally settled in a silvery potion with a mirrory or pearly sheen to it. The instructions said to let it cool in a cool place for two hours, and under no circumstances was he supposed to use a cooling charm. He shrugged, not wishing to cause an accident, put the bottled potion on the shelf and set a timer for exactly two hours.

Closing the book he was using, he carefully picked it up and put it on a bookshelf. Dumbledore wouldn't have tracking charms on him since his mother's sacrifice just made it impossible to stick on him and slide off away like well water. And Dumbledore would have showed up the second he went to Diagon Alley anyways if he did have a tracking charm.

Stretching, he sorted out the other books from categories, just in time for the timer to go off. He downed the potion quickly and felt his body suddenly twist and shape.

No one had ever said bloody aging potions would hurt that much! Gah. He withered on the floor. The effects stopped suddenly and he was grateful that his clothes had sizing charms on them or a seam would have been popped. His clothes from Madam Malkin had arrived earlier and they were actually quite nice.

He chuckled and conjured a mirror; and wow. He didn't look bad at all. Raven-black hair fell to his shoulders, longer than it usually was. His eyes were deeper, not the avada-kedavra color anymore, but an emerald shade. The infamous scar was now lighter, like a normal scar instead of a cursed scar. Nothing changed that much, but it was reassuring to know that he didn't look horrible in the future, at least.

Walking back to the book, he stumbled and stubbed his toe. Harry grumbled. Having two left feet and not being used to your own body was quite annoying together. Sighing, he slowly shuffled towards the book.

The potion was supposed to wear off in ten minutes, and he couldn't do any magic in that period. Shrugging, he leaned back and looked outside the fake window.

He could see a forest, with birds seemingly chirping and the sky impossibly blue. It looked extremely realistic- Harry had to convince himself that it was fake. Right.

He wondered if the view changed at random times randomly. It was different from the last time he looked out of the window.

The pain hit him again abruptly and he doubled over, clutching his stomach and biting his lip. He was shrinking, and his body felt like his bones were being twisted and his skin resized again. Groaning, he looked at the pain, wincing. It was fine now to use his wand, since the trace should be gone by now.

Eh… If it didn't work, the trunk's magic would cover it up, and the Ministry would be too busy with Voldemort to deal with an underage teenager using underage magic, right?

He certainly hoped so. He really didn't need a snapped wand. And being expelled.

Harry shrugged. He would just go out into his room later and try using magic with a wand later.

An hour later, he sorted out all the books in their respective categories, and so far a few looked quite promising. They were called 'A Beginners Guide to Offensive Magic' and 'Curses for the Dark Wizard'.

The guide had a great arsenal of spells that wouldn't necessarily be considered dark or illegal, just very borderline neutral… Not that it was much better, was it? There were a great number that were more well-known and easier to shield, but would still be useful in a duel.

It was quite curious that apparently muggle exercises and workouts would help a wizard's power and lifespan. Wizards and witches' magic already helped with burning out a lot of body fat, and kept them healthy and from diseases. Doing muggle workouts would further enhance the body and keep him fitter, with faster reflexes and better agility.

'Guess I'll just have to go running every day,' thought Harry. He would've never thought a book on dark magic would agree that muggle workouts helped a lot. 'You learn something new every single day.'

Casting a tempus, he realized it was already eight o' clock, and he was pretty exhausted with all he had done today. Retreating back into his bedroom, he changed into his pajamas and pulled back the covers, sleep overcoming him quickly.

-o-

Waking up, he realized it was only the beginning of August. It seemed so weird and strange- he had almost thought the holidays were beginning to end, it seemed like he had spent so much time this holiday and learnt so much, both for his magic and he had seen how fake everyone he knew was.

Dumbledore saw him as a martyr. Ron saw him as a tool to get fame. Hermione had used him for her own knowledge and probably gold. Ginny probably wanted to be famous and rich and be Mrs Potter.

Harry gagged at the thought.

The Weasleys, whom he had thought as a family, used him for gold. It seemed like everyone he knew and cared about were using him. He laughed mirthlessly. Maybe one day he would find someone that actually cared about him, he thought wistfully.

Pushing his thoughts away, he was about to climb into his trunk when a tapping on the no longer bar-clad window. Irritatingly walking to get the letter, his mood soured when he saw there were three letters, and it was from Pigwidgeon.

Harry wondered what they would try sprouting again. Scowling, he grabbed the letters and glared at Pigwidgeon, whom flew away hurriedly at his look. Rolling his eyes and looking at the letters, he sat back down on the bed and ripped the first letter open. It was from Granger.

Harry,

Happy birthday!

I do hope you are alright. I'm currently in Grimmauld Place with the Weasleys.

I'm sorry for not owling you earlier- Professor Dumbledore said it was for your own safety! You must forgive me and Professor. It was after all, for your own safety. This is an exception since it's your birthday. I'm so sorry, Harry!

Harry, you should be done with your schoolwork by now. I've already done it on the first week after the holidays started. Schoolwork is very important, Harry. You must finish all of it in time!

The Order and the Weasleys will pick you up on August 31st. You mustn't leave Privet Drive, however nasty your relatives might be. Your schoolbooks and supplies are already purchased- you won't need to leave Privet Drive at all this holiday!

Love,

Hermione

Dumbledore. It was always Dumbledore. Granger thought the sun shined out of his ass, Harry thought bitterly. And she thought schoolwork was apparently important in a brewing war. Just like first year. Rather be expelled then killed.

Harry would've done anything- anything for them.

They still betrayed him.

He'll show them how stupid and wrong they were in that decision.

She saw the world in black and white. Dumbledore was good and Voldemort was bad. Dark was evil and light was good. There was no in-between.

Her betrayal had hit Harry the hardest. Hermione Granger had always been for him. Unlike Ron, who Harry suspected something like this might happen. Ron was jealous and selfish, someone whom desperately yearned for fame and money.

Crumbling the sheet of paper in his hand, he burned it in his hand using those bluebell flames that she was so fond of.

Ron's letter was no better. Harry could now see his underlying reluctance in the letter to be nice to Harry and act like he meant it. Once these letters were something he treasured, but now it was something bitter to see, knowing the lies and deceits hidden underneath.

The third letter was just an update of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and his shares and everything. New updates and products that just came out that he got from the investment of a thousand galleons he had given to the twins.

The twins, he had found out had never took any money from him without his consent or knowledge, which made him quite glad that there were two people it seemed he could trust. Harry decided he would write to Fred and George and perhaps maybe see what there intentions were?

He didn't know, really. It was still a bit of a shock.

He was frankly surprised that the twins were even allowed to mail it.

Then again, had the twins ever cared what the adults said?

Probably not.

Snorting, he burnt Ron's letter into ashes and grabbed some spare parchment. A letter was to be sent to the twins, and one would be sent to Granger and Weasley.

Ron & Hermione,

Thanks! How are you doing in Grimmauld? Is the order fine?

Don't worry, Hermione! Of course I forgive you! I'm so grateful to have friends like you and Ron.

It's fine. The Dursleys are just avoiding me and ignoring me. They can't and won't do it. They're really scared stupid by Moody.

And yes Hermione, I'm almost done with schoolwork. Never thought I would see the day I would do schoolwork early, but there's really nothing to do. But on the bright side, at least my things and trunk isn't locked into the cupboard!

And I won't go outside, I promise. I don't want to die soon.

Harry

That sounded fake even to himself. He was being a tad bit sarcastic…

Eh, who cares?

Sealing the letter with wax, he got a second piece of parchment and wrote to Fred and George.

Gred and Forge,

I've found something out that really shocks me. I don't know what to do. You're the only ones I can trust now. Find a way to bring me to a safe place without anyone. Just make sure it's safe and nobody knows about it.

Harry

P.S. There's a secrecy charm so the others can't see it. Still, burn it as soon you read it.

It was short, but he didn't care anymore. He used his wand to put a secrecy charm. He didn't know how to do it wandlessly.

He waited for five minutes. Nope. No letter. Silently whooping and doing a mental dance, he walked to his window ledge and gave the letters to Hedwig.

Hedwig hooted and grabbed the letters with her claw and leaned in a bit. Harry smiled fondly at his companion and stroked her feathers. Hedwig hooted again and flew off quickly.

Looking off in the distance and his rapidly smaller owl, he sighed. Maybe he would actually have two friends. Hopefully.

-o-

A/N Someone asked that when Harry changed his appearance, was it wandless transfiguration or metamorphagus abilities? I actually didn't think of the possibility of Harry being a partial or full metamorphagus or transfiguring his face. It was just a glamour for Harry. As powerful as he is, transfiguration is extremely hard especially without the use of a wand in this story, so Harry just used a normal glamour

R&R!