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Albus Dumbledore sat at a large oak desk in the middle of his office. Small trinkets surrounded him and he was busy studying one closely through his spectacles. With a large sigh he placed the malfunctioning instrument down and placed his head in his hands. This instrument was supposed to tell him if something bad ever happened to Harry Potter, but for some reason he couldn't explain it didn't work. It had never smoked and whistled. Harry Potter had died and no one had been the wiser.

The small ghost child had wrecked havoc at the welcoming feast and many children were more freaked out about him than the Bloody Baron. A handful of Hufflepuffs had vomited and a few other students had fainted at the gory sight of the child. Not that he could blame them. The image of Harry Potter's body would forever be ingrained into his eyes when he closed them. People were already using Harry's story to fight child abuse and somehow someone took a picture of the child and it had been in all of the papers. Harry Potter's fate was well known in the wizarding world.

Dumbledore had received many howlers at all times of the day and he was quickly reaching his breaking point. On top of that something suspicious was happening inside Hogwarts. The Dark Lord was once more on the move and the Sorcerer's stone was on the third floor. Harry Potter would never fulfill the prophesy made all those years ago in the Hog's Head. Neville had never been marked and he didn't have the confidence to carry out such a task. This could only leave one person strong enough to kill Voldemort.

It was up to him to kill the Dark Lord now.

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/8495049/15/