I don't own Harry Potter J.K. Rowling does. This story is inspired by Tsume Yuki's story Phantasy.

Betrayal of the Worse Kind

Harry stood over Voldemort's dead body, contemplating the consequence of killing Tom Marvolo Riddle. Would he be praised by the light and be their saviour once again or would he be shunned by the light for killing even though Voldemort was a dark wizard who had killed, maimed and tortured millions of witches, wizards and muggles.

Ron limped to Harry with Hermione in tow. "You're a monster. You're no better than the dark lord himself. For all we know you could be the next dark lord in training! Just like You-Know-who!" spat Ron with such loathing that his face was twisted up in a scowl with utter hate and jealousy. What he was jealous of Harry had no idea.

It looked like the former thought was true, he would be shunned by the light and everyone else. Harry desperately tried to refute Ron's claims, "Ron! You know I never wanted a part in this god forsaken war from the beginning! My life was planned out for me since before I was born by both Dumbledore and Voldemort believing in that damned prophesy! You're my first and best friend! I thought you would stick with me through thick and thin!" Harry could only reluctantly admit to himself later when he was alone that the friendship statement was a low blow.

Ron flinched when he said they were best friends. Harry felt that he was grasping at straws to try and get them to believe him. "Hermione! Hermione you believe me don't you? Think about all the things we've done. All the things we've achieved! You know that I'm not a dark lord in training! Come on use that genius brain of yours 'Mione!"

Hermione flinched as well when Harry used her nickname. She looked conflicted, on one hand Dumbledore said that Harry was following in Voldemort's footsteps and all the facts and evidence concluded that Harry was the next dark lord in training whether he denies it or not, but on the other hand Harry was the first person who had defended her from her cruel peers and the first friend she had ever made who wasn't mean to her and who didn't care that she was bossy and a know-it-all, who actually encouraged her to learn and grow. Hermione debated with herself but her trust in authority figures won over her trust in Harry.

"Why should we believe you when all you've done is lie and hide! You continually drag us into mortal peril every year just so you can be even more famous! You dragged us on a goose hunt and for what? To find some horcruxs that Voldemort supposedly made? All throughout the year, you were secretive and vague! How do you expect someone to follow you if you don't inform them of the dangers beforehand and leave them as ripe, blind pickings for death eaters to capture! You didn't inform us about anything! We had to ask Dumbledore about how you were doing because you didn't tell us anything and you didn't take Dumbledore's help and advice when he offered it to you! We found out that the Dursley's were regularly beating and starving you and you didn't want anyone to do something about it!" Hermione shouted.

Harry looked like a fish out of water with his eyes wide and his mouth hanging wide open. 'How do they know that the Dursley's regularly beated and starved me when I stayed with them? I never told anyone about my home life and I was careful that my home life never came up in any conversations, unless …. Dumbledore! Dumbledore told them! He knew I was treated like a house elf and yet he didn't do anything about it! He's my magical guardian and headmaster, it's his duty to keep tabs on me, unless …. he didn't want me to leave the Dursleys. He wanted me to stay and be submissive and when I finally break, he would swoop in and save me! I would be so thankful that he saved me that I would remain ignorant of his plans until I died and he would take over! He wanted me to kill Voldemort in the forest and if Voldemort didn't kill me he would come and finish the job! Well played Dumbledore, well played. Manipulating me and Tom to do your bidding so you didn't get your hands dirty, I got to admit it was a genius plan, even if you were manipulating me. I bet you even made that damned prophecy up didn't you? But you died before I could kill Voldemort. Haha, serves you right you old coot, your dead, I found out about your master plans and I didn't die. You're just rolling in your grave aren't you? Haha ha!' thought Harry triumphantly, felling glee that Dumbledore couldn't control him anymore.

While Harry was having a monolog in his mind Hermione took a breath and ploughed on, "That's right! We had to ask a teacher! How do you expect us to believe you if you don't even trust us? Trust me? What? Are a mudblood and a blood traitor to lowly for someone like you, The Boy Who Lived?" Hermione broke off crying into Ron's shoulder.

"But, but Hermione, 'Mione I do trust you." Harry trailed off dejectedly, catching Ron's glare.

While they were talking Ron started getting redder and redder in the face, like he was about to explode. "Just go! Be thankful that I've shown you mercy by not killing you where you stand. You've done enough. Go before I change my mind you freak!" snarled Ron, holding Hermione in his arms.

Harry flinched and looked at the pair one last time with tears in his eyes before leaving. He knew the shouting had attracted attention and he didn't fancy getting killed by a stranger or worse a friend. He didn't live sixteen years with the Dursleys and dodging Voldemort for nothing, just to be killed by a stray spell. Ron and Hermione may have taken everything he held dear and set it on fire, but he still had his magic, pride and his self-preservation made stronger by living under the Dursley's roof and opposing Voldemort six times, coming out alive and relatively unharmed to tell the tale.

Harry apparated to 12 Grimmauld Place. The wards recognising him as Lord Black, the head of House Black, let him effortlessly through. He was greeted by the sight of Kreacher scowling and growling lowly in the foyer.

After Harry gave Kreacher the horcruxless locket that he had never been able to destroy to the wishes of his late master, Regulus Black he started acting nicer. By acting nicer, Kreacher stoped his insulting comments and Harry could be a hundred percent sure that he wouldn't try to poison him or kill him in his sleep; not that he would, unless he wanted to serve another wizarding family and live off their magic, [To Kreacher it would be the utmost insult to not be able to serve the Most Ancient and the Most Noble House of Black and to have his head hung on the banister of the staircase after he died.]

"Master Harry, is there anything … that Kreacher can do?" Kreacher reluctantly spat out in between growling and looking constipated.

"Could you run a hot bath for when I get back please Kreacher. I need to go to Gringotts to sort out my accounts before the ministry freeze them immediately. Oh and Kreacher? You have the rest of the day off," sighed Harry, running a hand through his hair.

He walked up the rickety stairs to his bedroom and got changed from his dirty and torn clothes [that Aunt Petunia would have a fit over] into recently brought combat boots, black jeans, grey shirt and his trusty leather jacket he got as a birthday present from Sirius. Harry needed to look his best when he informed the goblins that he was emptying everything out of his vaults.

Harry moved around the room, busying himself with gathering items he needed to bring to Gringotts, instead of thinking about his dead godfather Sirius who he killed. He pocketed his shrunken trunk, slipped on his best robes and made his way to the lounge room on the first floor downstairs. He grabbed a pinch of floo powder and stepped into the fire place, "GRINGOTTS BANK!" shouted Harry.