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The Ultimate Betrayal	By : AddictedToMocha Category: Harry Potter AU/AR > Slash - Male/Male Views: 11341 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 17
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make any money from using J.K. Rowling's wonderful world.

Chapter List
- 1-The Ultimate Betrayal
- 1
DAILY PROPHET

THE- BOY- WHO- LIVED TO THE- MAN- WHO- KILLED TO THE NEXT DARK LORD? By Rita Skeeter

This reporter has received several statements from some of Harry Potter's closest friends that our beloved hero has indeed been delving into the very dark arts he saved us from. A miss Hermione Granger has this to say:

"Well as you know Harry has been my brother in every way but blood since our first year at Hogwarts together. He has changed so much since that time. Harry left his beloved fiancée (Ginny Weasley) and completely cut off all contact with those close to him for weeks. He has been holding himself in the Black Family Home, delving deep into the darkest of magic. Harry's become frightening and it is a very real possibility that he's already started recruiting followers. I just wanted to warn everybody that our beloved hero is not who he used to be, he's extremely dangerous…"

Could we have been duped? Could Harry Potter defeated You-Know-Who not to save us, but to take his place? This reporter won’t stop until she has the answers!

Harry Potter balled up the Daily Prophet and threw it in the fire before grabbing his firewhiskey and plopping unceremoniously down on the couch. He hadn't left the house in weeks; people feared him now. Granger and Weasley had been telling everyone, via the Daily Prophet, that he was becoming the n0ext dark lord.

It made Harry chuckle darkly whenever he thought about it; they were so close and yet so far away from the truth. He had been reading all the tomes in the Black Family library, to fill the void that had plagued him since he had fought Voldemort. But he hadn’t been recruiting followers, just the opposite; he hadn’t spoken to another human being in weeks. Since the Prophet had started printing stories about him turning dark not one person would look at him. Old supporters of Voldemort would just as soon kill him before they uttered a single syllable towards him and everyone else was terrified of him. Of course who wouldn’t be terrified of the defeater of the worst dark lord in centuries going dark.

Harry took another drink, continuing his nightly ritual of getting so inebriated that his thoughts would become incoherent. He didn’t want to think about the hatred, the loneliness, how his friends ditched him…again…for breaking up with Ginny.

Ginny had wanted to attend all the fancy balls and relish in all of his fame. She wanted to have pictures in the Daily Prophet and bask in the limelight that she had never had before. Ginny was just like Ron, wanting nothing but Harry’s fame. He on the other hand wanted to hide from the world. Harry had never been so depressed, so empty. It was as though he were just a shell of himself. In a world full of people he felt more alone than he ever had, even before he discovered the world of magic…and that was saying something.

None of who he had grown close to had understood. He thought at first Hermione had, her eyes had taken on that knowing glint that he had seen many times over the years, but she hadn’t. As frustrating as it was he had tried hard not to hate them for it because he hadn’t understood it either. Circe, he still didn’t understand it completely.

Harry missed Voldemort. In some strange, twisted way he missed having Voldemort’s soul inside him. Those annual murder attempts had been so full of magic, so thick and heady with hatred that it made his body catch fire, his mind go hazy, and his soul sing. How Harry had never noticed before was beyond him but now that he had mastered Occlumency he could watch those nights over and over, feeling the intense passion. But reviewing those nights left him filled with such need, such longing, that he was inconsolable for weeks. It was best if he shoved them away, he tried to bury them in the back in his mind…yet the loneliness would get too much and he would cave in, knowing full well how devastated he would be afterwards. It was a vicious cycle he was powerless to stop.

Life had no purpose now. What had once been thrilling and awe-inspiring was now dull and colorless. What had once brought him happiness now only brought back memories of happier times. Now he sat in the Black library, devouring some of the foulest books he’d ever seen whilst basking in the lingering magic that vaguely reminded him of Voldemort’s. It was wrong, and he knew it. He should not long for the man who had wreaked havoc on the world, who killed thousands, who had tried to kill him on multiple occasions. Harry definitely should not want the piece of soul back, should not be desperate for it when he knew that in order for him to have it Voldemort would be immortal. But even if he should, he didn’t care.

In fact, the longer time went on, the lonelier he would get; and the lonelier he got, the longer he spent reading. The longer he spent reading, the more he learned. And with the more he learned, the more he realized just exactly what the war that he had been such a vital figure in had been about.

While yes, Voldemort was unethical and crazy, what he fought for was something Harry found himself believing in wholeheartedly. Wizards should not be bowing to muggle demands. Wizards should be able to celebrate the solstices without fear of persecution. They should be able to freely practice whatever magic they choose and live the way they want without the fear of being exposed. And mudbloods…mudbloods needed to strangled, or in the very least found sooner and taught about the wizarding world.

They were coming in with their muggle views and beliefs, changing a world that used to cherish history and tradition more than anything. Whole branches of magic that had once been thriving contributors were now banned. Creatures that had once been praised for their strength and beauty were now shunned and disgraced.

And Harry had fought for this to continue.

It made him shudder, it made him sick. Whenever he was reminded of what exactly he had fought for he would cringe and grab the bottle, trying to drown out the mortification and disgust that ate at him like maggots.

However, as much as he believed in what the “dark” side fought for, he found himself unable to truly care. Harry had nothing left to get worked up. The only thing that truly mattered to him was that Voldemort was gone. He had fought so hard to destroy him and now he would give anything to be back in the man’s presence one last time. To be a horcrux once again.

He'd grown up with that piece of soul and not realized the comfort that it brought him. You truly don’t know what you have until it’s gone.

With a heavy sigh and more tears welling up Harry looked around the room. Compared to other manors Grimmauld Place was tiny; with only six bedrooms, four bathrooms, a basement, kitchen, library, parlor, tea room, study, and a dining room, but it was enormous to him and just served to remind Harry how alone he was. No one ever came over, no one asked him to go out…no, Harry had only a demented house elf and a glaring portrait for company.

He had to get out, at least under his invisibility cloak. Harry knew his thoughts would soon turn suicidal and…well he couldn’t come up with a single reason why he shouldn’t just end it. Instead though, Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak and stumbled his way outside the wards. Apparating drunk was always a risk, but Harry secretly hoped that he wouldn’t survive. With his luck though he arrived at the small abandoned alley behind Weasley’s Wizarding Weezes…sometimes being the Boy-Who-Wouldn’t-Die really sucked.

Stepping out of the alley Harry glanced up at the flamboyant sign and felt yet more tears stinging his eyes. He wasn’t allowed there now, even if he was the one who made it all possible. After dumping Ginny all the Weasley’s had turned their backs on him…including George. He would have done the same if he’d had a sister and she was dumped rather cruelly. But it still hurt, to know that those who he tried to make family had turned on him instead of helping him in his time of need.

Harry was about to turn and walk away from the place that evoked emotions he couldn’t handle right now, when the door to the dark shop opened and the sound of bells chimed. An obviously drunk Hermione, Ron, and Ginny tried to make their way down the steps, just as Harry stepped out of their path. He wanted to hex them, to curse them ten ways to Sunday for how they’d abandoned him after everything they had endured together, but Ginny spoke before he could do anything.

"Honestly Hermione, how could he be like this when he doesn't even know? He's completely oblivious to what we did and he's still being pathetic." Her tone was one that Harry had grown familiar with over the last two years, whining and angry. It sounded as if they were finishing a conversation from earlier.

Harry’s curiosity was peeked; but he also knew that Ginny was talking about him. What had they done? What had they hidden from him? Harry fell into step behind them and he watched Hermione giggle and push herself into Ron’s side, brushing her breasts against him.

"I don't know, Ginny. Harry's always been a tad pathetic, I think that the Dursley’s may have overdone their abuse. He was so easy to manipulate, but I think that’s because we were his first friends." She hiccupped and giggled some more with Ginny, who looked like she had just seen the funniest thing in the world. Harry wanted to puke, but he also wanted Hermione under his wand. How could she say that about him? And what did she mean manipulate him?

"Remember what Dumbledore had said,” Hermione continued, “that soul mates, even if unaware, never get over the death of the other. He might be like this forever." Harry's mind was having trouble processing this sudden turn in the conversation…he had a soul mate?

Harry’s hands were shaking and his chest constricted. There was only one person who could even come close to filling that role…the only person who had simultaneously made his life hell and made him feel more alive than ever…

"I know of a jealousy potion you could try, Ginny. Harry would sniff out a love potion but if he’s jealous of you then he’ll likely fool himself into thinking it’s because he loves you." Harry’s wand was no more than four inches away from Granger’s skull and a curse was on his lips when Ron spoke, distracting Harry for the moment.

"I can't believe we pulled it off. Even now when it’s been a few years. Potter killing his own soul mate! When I was finally alone I laughed for hours! Dumbledore was a genius for pulling the whole thing off even in death. Though, I would have killed my soul mate too if they were a Dark Lord, or even a bloke. I always knew Potter was dark…just didn’t think he’d be gay. You don’t think he checked me out in the dorms do you?” Hermione and Ginny assured Ron while Harry stood frozen, unable to make his limbs move.

Dumbledore, the man he had viewed as a mentor and pseudo grandfather had…and Tom was his…all the anger simultaneously quadrupled and cooled off. He was not angry, nor livid, nor murderous. He was the cold, beautiful calm before a storm; he was the eye of a hurricane that leveled whole parts of countries.

Sending him to the Dursley’s had been to break him and keep him malleable. Sending Hagrid had been because he worshipped the ground Dumbledore walked on and would voice a hate for Slytherins. The Weasley’s on the muggle side of the platform. Letting Voldemort inside the school and the stone…

‘You’ve raised him like a pig for slaughter!’

Severus Snape’s words rang through, breaking his rehashing. It was true; Dumbledore had raised him like a pig for slaughter. The despair hit and buried him like an avalanche. Harry’s knees buckled underneath him and he collapsed on the cobblestone. One tear fell, then another, and another, and within a minute they were full out, gut-wrenching sobs. What little he had to try and keep himself glued together had melted away and he was lost.

"Tom…Tom…” Harry wrapped his arms around himself in a useless attempt to comfort himself. “Don’t hate me…”

He would do it. When he managed to get home he would end it. End the constant suffering that seemed to be his life.

The air shifted before Harry could move. It became heavy and dense, so thick that it was difficult to breathe. The air seemed saturated with magic that was unlike any Harry had ever felt before. Slowly he pushed himself up and made it to his feet. Before him was a sight that shocked him.

The first things that caught his notice were her height and her hair. She had to be at least six foot and towered over Harry’s petite 5’5. Striking crimson hair fell in perfect ringlets and ended at curvaceous hips. She was dressed in a black…was that a toga? It draped across her ample bosom and wrapped around her body tightly, spilling around painted toes that were not touching the cobblestone. When Harry’s eyes travelled back up the woman her black eyes bored into his emerald ones.

“W-who are you?” This was not your average witch; Harry knew that by just looking at her. Her magic could not be human, it was too thick, too powerful, too crushing. The mere thought of it running through his body made him cringe.

The mysterious woman’s head tilted and beautiful, frightening smile played on her full lips. “I was called Arae for many years amongst the mortals, and your name child?”

Harry grasped his wand behind his back, confused and wary of how she used the word mortals. This action only made her smile impossibly bigger, her blindingly white teeth showing now. “Harry Potter.” The woman, Arae, nodded, seemingly unaware that that name now caused most to blanche and leave. It only backed up his theory, she could not be human.

“I have a proposition for you, Harry Potter. You see you have a thirst for revenge that rivals that of the Titans and I am able to give that to you…for a price.” Harry could feel his eyes go wide and his jaw drop open.

“Who are you?” Arae’s smile returned at his question.

“I am a lesser known goddess of witchcraft and curses. However over time my name has been pushed aside and eventually forgotten. What few temples I had erected in my honor have been destroyed and now I have no mortals calling upon me and worshipping my name. Over the last few centuries my power has diminished to near lethal levels.” If it were possible Harry’s jaw would have hit the ground. He wanted to laugh and call the woman crazy, but he couldn’t. He knew she was telling the truth just from being in her presence. There was nothing human about her.

“However, there are ways for me to return to strength, which is where you, my dear, come in. I have enough power left to give you the opportunity to extract the revenge you desire, to change it all and never feel the loneliness, the heart ache, the emptiness you feel ever again.”

To change it all…did she mean…? Harry stood, frozen, staring at Arae in bewildered shock. Could she possibly mean that? To change it all…the words rang in Harry’s mind, echoing throughout him, vibrating him from his skull and down through his ribs, to the tips of his toes.

“What do you want?” However much Harry wanted this, he felt as if he were making a deal with the devil. Arae’s eyes sparkled and her lips turned into a predatory smile.

“I only have enough power left to send your soul back seven years. After that I will be reduced to my animalia form. You will sign a contract,” Arae snapped her fingers and a piece of ancient parchment appeared in a puff of dark grey smoke along with a quill. A quill he had quite personal experiences with. He couldn’t help but rub the back of his hand where the words were still raised.

“Stating that you will protect my life with yours. I will be very weak afterwards and you will be my guard. Not only will you protect me, you will dedicate yourself to me. You will worship at my alter; as will your soul mate, your offspring, and their offspring. While your guard duties will not last more than five years, as stated in paragraph two, you and your blood will forever honor me, I will be the patroness of your line. Whilst you are going about exacting revenge I will be on the lookout for a worthy consort. Someone to bear me a godling so that they may bring my name back to life, raise my temples and bring the mortals to honor me. I will rise to power and you shall get your love and your revenge.

Do we have a deal, Harry Potter?”

For several moments Harry could only stare stupidly at her. And then his brain began to reboot itself and started processing what Arae had said. She was dying, because she was no longer being worshipped. He was dying, because he had killed his soul mate. Arae had come up with a solution that would help them both. But he had questions.

Harry looked up to Arae, “What does it mean to dedicate myself to you? What does it mean that you will be the patroness of my line? What exactly am I doing when if I agree for my children, and theirs, to be pledged to you?”

Once again Arae smiled, this time though, she looked genuinely pleased. “To dedicate yourself to me is to worship me, to become one of my followers. You will have an alter in my name and every day until I am once again at full strength you will honor me with a ritual I will teach you. It is not uncommon, you wizardlings have chosen gods and goddesses to pledge to since the beginning of time, however the practice has become less popular in the last century. But we will bring it back.

“To make me the patroness of your line you will need to claim your lordship. But after that your home will include an altar of mine, you will honor me in ways in which I will show you, and your crest will change. You will practice the old ways and in exchange you and your line will become infused with more power.

“And to your last question, you will raise your children in my name. You will teach them of me, how to honor my name, how to do my bidding if I ever desire, and pledge them to me when they are the appropriate age. They will do the same to their children, and it will go on. I would never harm them, or you, for you will be my first worshippers in two centuries. I will bless you and protect you; in exchange you will do the same for me.”

It seemed fair enough, even if he had no idea what worshipping a goddess included. Deep down, though, he knew he was going to say yes, even if he had to have a human sacrifice to worship her. So Harry let his other questions rest and nodded.

“I want to read the contract first.” With a simple flick the parchment disappeared in a cloud of smoke and then reappeared the same way in front of him. It was parchment older than he had ever seen and on it was words written a very flowery script and black ink.

The first paragraph outlined the main points. The second was the details on his duties as guard. Arae would be reduced to an animal form after this and would be for a while. So he would take her on under the guise of a familiar and would bring her with him everywhere he went. At no time were others to touch her and she was to be well fed. Neglect or failure to keep her safe resulted in his death. The duration of his guard duties would last no more than five years, as Arae had said. The third paragraph was basically a nice way of saying that he was bound to secrecy. He was unable to tell anyone of her true identity or their deal in any way possible or his magic would kill him. The fourth was his promise to pledge himself, and his line to her patronage. Should he select another god upon her return to the stars was betrayal and resulted in, surprise surprise, his death. Should his offspring stray from her she had the right to visit them and if they still strayed, a curse would be set in motion. The curse was outlined in the next paragraph, basically stating that they would never find happiness until they returned to Arae. The second to last paragraph, number six, was Arae’s end of the bargain. Upon signing this contract she would send them back seven years. She would care for him and his children to come as long as Harry held up his end. And the final paragraph recounted all points and very boldly stated that breaking this contract resulted in death, for both parties.

For the first time in years Harry felt the small flicker of hope rage into a roaring fire. A real smile pulled his lips up and he hastily reached for the quill. The torrent of hope and anxiousness were so powerful he barely felt where the words carved into the back of his hand. When he was done, when Harry James Potter was written on the left line Harry looked up to Arae with glee.

Her smile was genuine and she too signed her name at the bottom before the parchment was engulfed in purple flames. When it was gone Arae spoke.

“Very well, Harry Potter. Are you ready?”

“Yes,” he nearly shouted. He was so ready for this. To feel the horcrux inside him again, to feel that bond with Voldemort, and to see all those who betrayed him die.

“I will see you soon.”

Arae waived her hand and murmured a long string of words in a language he had never heard before he felt a jerking motion. He could feel himself floating, leaving his body, and had just enough time to look down and catch a glimpse of his unmoving body lying on the cobblestone before everything went black.

~o~O~o~

Harry was jolted awake by a deafening bang. But he had no time to even open his eyes before it felt like his chest was being stabbed. It hurt so bad his entire torso arched to the sky and his limbs contorted in stiff, unnatural angles. For a few moments Harry had no idea what was going on, he couldn’t remember where he was, or what was happening. For a brief second he thought that old Death Eaters that had not been caught had captured him and he hoped they were going to kill him soon. But then he remembered drunkenly apparating to Diagon and hearing Granger and the Weasles with a clarity that had to have been magically done. No one could drink that much firewhiskey and recall exactly what someone was wearing, every word of a conversation, or the painful emotions that plagued him.

But now those emotions were gone and in their place was a plethora of wonder, curiosity, thankfulness, anxiousness, fear, hope, and for the first time in a very long time; so much happiness. While part of his mind was still tracking the pain that now racked his entire body a much larger part was now feeling what he had never noticed before; the bond and the horcrux. The devastating and crippling loneliness were gone, in its place was protectiveness. He could feel the subtle emotions he had thought were his own the first time; the possessiveness, the waryness, the slight anger, and the longing.

But those were buried deep underneath both his emotions and the ones coming from the bond. Complete insanity, murderous animosity, and gut wrenching fear were shooting at him so fast it was dizzying, even if he was lying down.

The pain that had been eating at him for about a minute vanished as quickly as it had come, thankfully. Without thinking Harry bolted upright, examining his surroundings. But he was able to identify no more than the tent he recognized from the first task when a wave of nausea overtook him. He grabbed the bucket beside him and started to heave.

“Mr. Potter! Oh you poor dear, you must be so afraid!” Madame Pomfrey was making her way over from the opening of the tent with a look of worry on her face. Her cool hand brushed his forehead as he heaved again, spewing contents of some sort of meal into the bucket.

“What-“ He heaved again, this time only regurgitating a yellowish bile, “happened?”

“You passed out after you selected a dragon, Mr. Potter. A Hungarian Horntail, to be precise. Oh I told Albus you were too young..” Harry stopped listening as Krum and Fleur rounded the wall and Pomfrey went off saying something about a nausea potion. It wasn’t necessary, as the nausea had passed, but he let her go.

~I trust the pain wasn’t too bad?~

Harry turned quickly, twisting the sheets beneath him, to see a very large snake uncoiling from under the bed. It was massive, at least three of him in length and as big a round as his thigh. The scales were solid black with deep red stripes and its eyes were a familiar coal black.

~Arae?~

Black eyes rolled and Viktor Krum’s name was called in the background. ~No mortal, I am just a large snake here to bite your head off.~

Harry couldn’t help but laugh and fell back on the bed, watching Arae slither up beside him. ~Was it just coincidence that your animal form is a snake and I’m a parseltongue or did you plan that?~

~The fates have deemed us beneficial to each other, it seems. Coincidences do not just happen, they are planned by the fates. We were destined to help one another.~

~Mhhm,~ Harry sat up quickly and groaned, ~How am I supposed to explain you? I can’t just suddenly have a gigantic snake with no explanation of how I got you. Besides that I highly doubt they will let an almost twenty foot snake be my familiar at Hogwarts!~

Arae let out a hissing laugh but Harry only scowled. He was supposed to keep her with him at all times and protect her, but how was he supposed to do that if she was this massive, man eating snake?

~Don’t be stupid, I only arrived in my full size because I had no idea where I would land.~ Harry watched, fascinated, as Arae began to shrink at an alarming rate right before his eyes. Almost twenty feet to ten, ten to seven, seven to four, and finally she stopped shrinking when she was about a foot long and about an inch thick. He watched, transfixed, as she made her way over started to slither up his sleeve. When she finally laid still she was securely wrapped around his right forearm.

Once again Harry laid back rested his right arm on his stomach as he stared at the ceiling of the tent. He was really back. He was fourteen again. His soul mate was still alive, well technically in a homunculus about to be reborn in a matter of weeks. But he was still ALIVE! Tears began to prick at his eyes and he pushed those thoughts away. He could not be seen for the first task red and puffy eyed. Especially not after his “fainting” spell.

~Did you have to pick the very day I have to get an egg from a dragon? You couldn’t have picked tomorrow or perhaps a week ago?~

Arae poked her head out and shot him a glare. ~I send you back in time seven years and you complain about a measly dragon? I thought you were intelligent!~

~What do you mean?~

~I mean snakes are descendants of dragon you idiot boy. If you can speak to a snake you can speak to almost any dragon except for the Welsh and the Grondt, however I believe the Grondt are extinct now.~

Harry laughed, unable to do anything else. The looks on everyone’s faces would be priceless, the Golden Boy, the Savior, using his dark ability to win! Maybe it could a forewarning of sorts?

The cannon went off again and Harry watched Fleur’s face pale as she began to walk to the exit. Harry got up and grabbed his wand off the table next to him before cleansing his mouth and performing a sticking charm on his glasses. He would fix that problem right after he retrieved the egg and he was back in his dorm.

~Why don’t you give me a brief overview of the events of this year, your plans, and the people. We have a while before that damned cannon blasts again.~

Harry sat back and Arae curled around his neck so that he wouldn’t have to hiss so loud. ~This year the Triwizard Tournament was brought back. There is three tasks for normally three champions, however, this year I was called as the fourth…~

He laid out the basic outline of how the next year and a half went, what he wanted to change, and described the main characters in his overview. He told her of each task, exactly who Voldemort was, how he was resurrected the first time, and how he escaped.

After a while Fleur was announced successful and Harry stood, his heart racing as fast as his Firebolt while Arae coiled back around his forearm. There was a deafening BANG!

“Harry Potter!” With a deep breath exited the tent. He was met with applause, but not as loud as the other champions. Of course most hated him right now, which was fine with him.

Harry made a show of tucking his wand back in his holster, causing one giant collective gasp. His clothes were already charmed as were his glasses so he had no need to have it out at the moment. The wall sealed shut behind him as he entered the arena and from where he was standing he could see Barty Crouch Jr./Moody in the stands. Dumbledore sat on the judge’s bench and when they locked eyes Harry’s anger reached peaks previously uncharted.

A deafening roar broke Harry out of his glaring and he could hear the dragon hissing as she uncurled across the arena.

~Get back! I ssshall roast you if you come near my babiesss! The othersss may have been too weak, but I will protect my hatchlingsss with my life!~

The dragon was now totally uncurled and on all fours, glaring at him murderously. Harry held up both hands, trying to signify that he meant no harm but the Horntail opened her mouth. This time it wasn’t to speak, but to try and roast him. Harry dodged, but only just, and the crowd cried out in worry. When the flames ended Harry jumped to the side and stood still while the dragon moved in front of the eggs.

~I don’t come to harm you or your young.~

Screams in shock were heard, whispers flying around at a dizzying pace, but Harry ignored the crowd and kept his eyes on the dragons while Arae hissed in laughter from her spot on his arm.

~Then why do the otherssss cry out in rage and ssssorrow?~

~The sssshiny, golden egg that is with your young is dangeroussss. When it hatchessss it will kill them. The otherssss couldn’t explain to the dragonsss why they had to take that egg. My ability to talk to you issss rare.~

The Hungarian Horntail stared at him for a moment before curling down around her eggs, her tongue flicking out sporadically. Harry continued to stay still, waiting for her to decide. After about two or three minutes the dragon pulled her head up.

~It musssst be ass you ssssay, young one. Thissssss one isss not of my flesssssh. You may come and take it away. But if you so much assss touch one of my hatchlingssss I will eat you!~

~I would never harm your hatchlingssss.~

When the Horntail nodded Harry began to walk forward, making a zig zag trail through the rocks up to the nest. The crowd was dead silent, the judges and even the commentator didn’t utter a single word as they watched him walk up to the dragon that was lying possessively around her eggs. He fell a few times, his foot sliding out of footholds and rock crumbling beneath his feet. But once he was within ten feet the rocky terrain ended.

She hissed in warning when he was close enough to touch but Harry reassured her that he would never take an egg that was hers. He reached down slowly and plucked the golden egg out of the nest, extremely careful not to touch any of the other eggs.

~Thank you, human, for helping me protect my nest.~

~You’re welcome. Oh and when they come to move you again just go with it, they are going to take you home.~

When Harry made it out of the rocky patch the crowd erupted into cheers and applause, louder than when he went in. Harry just smirked to himself and made his way to the other champions while his score was announced. He paid it no mind; he could care less about what they scored him. The point was, he had used a “dark” skill to achieve his goal. This was his warning to the wizarding world; Harry Potter was not their little savior anymore.
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The Ultimate Betrayal